Invisible
by Spunky0ne
Summary: Victor Nikiforov is a legend, a skating god. Everyone knows his face, his bright smile, his charismatic wink and his perfect quadruple flip. How could a person like that feel like no one sees him at all?...A prologue to Season 1...dreams of Victuuri, Victor/Yuuri K...Victuuri fluff and cuteness
1. On Top

**Invisible**

**By Spunky0ne**

**XXXXXXXXXX**

_**Victor Nikiforov is a legend, a skating god. Everyone knows his face, his bright smile, his charismatic wink and his perfect quadruple flip.**_

_**How could a person like that feel like no one sees him at all?**_

**XXXXXXXXXX**

**Chapter 1: On Top**

Well before dawn, with lights off and in a Saint Petersburg ice rink lit only by the moon, Victor Nikiforov danced alone on the ice, with no one watching, and to music that only he could hear.

Practiced feet moved and his golden blades melted the ice, making that soothing sound Victor loved more than just about any other sound in the world. His focused, blue-green eyes softened and grew dreamy as he laid back and spun with his arms curved above him. He straightened and skated backwards, building speed, then moving into a spread eagle position. Turning, he executed a lovely triple axel and landed easily.

_I should use that move in my next program._

His feet slowed, and he continued to skate backwards, but his brow furrowed and his usually smiling lips frowned.

_But what should my theme be?_

_What story do I tell this time?_

_What would people find most surprising?_

His feet shifted and he came to a stop in the middle of the empty ice rink. His soft breaths were the only sound as he considered.

_This used to be easier._

_I used to immediately think of a thousand things to choose from, and as soon as I had the theme, I would start to see the perfect costume. I would hear the music well up in my head. I would have the moves in mind before my composer finished the song. I've never needed to struggle to find inspiration._

_Why don't I feel motivated now?_

He forced out a determined breath and started moving his feet again, but his frown deepened at sensing a heaviness that had settled over him. It came with a feeling that seemed like boredom.

_But, I'm not really bored, I am frustrated. The things that have always worked before have stopped working. I need to think of something new to try, but after twenty years of skating, maybe I've just exhausted the list of more obvious things. I need to dig deeper. I need to find something new, a fresh story to tell._

_But, what?_

Suddenly, the rink lights clicked on, and Victor felt loosed a sigh of relief.

"Good morning, Yakov," he called out cheerfully, outwardly showing no sign of the frustration that had just been nagging at him.

Yakov muttered a gruff answer and headed into his office. Victor chuckled and skated to the edge of the rink to start his music.

_Stay Close to Me._

He lowered his gaze for the opening, then raised it again as the music began. His body moved easily and confidently, though in truth, his mind was far from the Saint Petersburg ice rink.

_This is even more beautiful than I originally thought it would be. It took me by surprise. My heart was really in it. It's the last time I felt that way._

_I wonder if anyone realizes this is a duet that is missing its other half._

_Kind of like me?_

_I wonder if anyone sees that either._

_I can only find new strength on my own, right? That's what I've always thought. I've had to dig down deep before, and I have always found that strength. But…let's be honest. I am twenty-seven years old. That is late in the career of a skater. To push on from here, I need to find new motivation. But, how will I do that?_

"Vitya, you look half asleep," Yakov complained, making the silver-haired skater breathe in deeper and come back to awareness, "Did you gain weight or were you just up too late, drinking last night? You're moving like a zombie!"

_I feel like a zombie._

"If you're not going to be serious, get the fuck off the ice and let me use the goddamned time!" snapped a scornful male voice that wasn't his coach's.

_Yuri Plisetsky. Fifteen years old and thinks I'm an old man. He already thinks he is better than me._

_Little shit!_

_Thank you for the motivation._

Victor's expression remained calm and focused, but his next spin could only be described as dazzling. He exited and swept past his younger teammate, displaying a middle finger at just the right time for the little upstart to see it, but for Yakov not to. He launched himself into the air and executed an eye catching quadruple lutz that was absolutely not in that portion of his program, but it made Yuri snarl and made Victor laugh inwardly.

_Let's see you do that, you little prick. Maybe when you can, you'll earn the right to think you're better than me._

Oddly, he found himself smiling.

_I hope that this does motivate you. You are overconfident, Yuri, and that makes you lazy. As long as you are like that, you will never equal me, no matter how old I get. So, get mad. Get so mad that you can't stand it anymore. Get so mad that it makes you try harder, work harder, focus harder. Because that is how you will finally surpass me._

Victor wasn't sure what it was about that exchange. It happened often, so it wasn't unusual. But, it seemed to fill his bodywith fresh energy and life, and for the rest of the practice session, he had no more trouble focusing. And Yakov's complaining eased. The old man even looked somewhat satisfied, if only that his snarky comments had, perhaps brought the silver-haired skater back to his senses.

When his practice time ended, Victor called his elderly standard poodle to his side and left the ice rink to jog over to the nearby gym. The place was busy, so he spent as much time socializing as he did on his weight training.

_Still, as long as it gets done, it's done._

And as long as he was in public, he didn't have to think about how quiet it was at home. He kept his day busy purposely, so that he would enter that quiet, feeling tired and relieved to be there. And if he felt the beginnings of melancholy, then he wouldn't head straight home. There was a long list of friends…or acquaintances, really, who would be happy to spend the evening talking, dancing, eating and drinking until he was too numb to feel anything serious.

And the next morning, it would start all over again.

As he was leaving the gym, his phone sounded a notification.

_Victor, don't forget, we have an interview at the TV station at four_, Yakov's stern voice reminded him.

He went home and played for awhile with Maccachin, then he left the old dog resting and headed to the shower. Pale, graceful hands stripped away his clothes, revealing a body that defied his age in most ways. But Victor didn't miss the little signs of advancing age. He was still a young man, but to the skating world, he was a mature skater.

_Still, each day is a gift, and I won't waste time worrying about what will happen. I will make this time last for as long as I can, then…I will…_

But, he wasn't sure how to finish that sentence.

The Russian skater took a long, slow breath of steamy air, relieved to close his eyes and to be able to completely relax. He took advantage of every moment like this to be grateful for the life he led, for the beauty of being, not just a talented skater, but the number one skater in the world.

Oddly, it didn't hold the breathtaking feel it had used to. And it was more than just the fact that he was on the verge of winning his fifth consecutive world title.

_The truth is, I've felt for some time that something is missing._

_What?_

_What is it?_

_What do I need to motivate me to keep going?_

The answer wasn't in the hot water that ran down the porcelain length of his oh, so desirable naked body. It wasn't in the steamy air that touched that body all over and was breathed in and exhaled as Victor closed his eyes and tried to picture something, anything that could bring the change he needed. Like the last bits of night, the answers seeped away into the cracks and corners of his mind when he tried to look for them.

Little did Victor Nikiforov know that the answers he sought were contained in the gentle heart, the overly anxious, but fiercely devoted mind, and the strong, but struggling body of the Japanese skater known as Yuuri Katsuki. Yuuri Katsuki was merely the ghost that Victor sensed keenly, but could not yet see. But, unbeknownst to both young men, that was days away from changing.

Victor stepped out of the shower, reaching for a thick, absorbent towel that he used to remove the excess moisture from his silvery hair, then ran slowly all over his body as he breathed slowly and enjoyed the sensation. Yes, Victor was a man who enjoyed every little thing that felt good, that looked good, that smelled and sounded and tasted good. Anything and everything that touched his senses, made him feel alive. He walked, naked, to his closet and took his time choosing something comfortable and flattering. As he dressed, his felt his melancholy ease. He knew already that the interview would keep him occupied, so he wouldn't feel that nagging little frustration, that little inner voice that made him feel like, even though his life was full, something was missing.

But even if he didn't look, in the back of his mind, he knew that the signs were everywhere.

He left the house and found the car that Yakov had sent for him already idling in the driveway.

"Good afternoon, Victor," the driver greeted him, opening the door for him.

"Thank you, Artur," Victor answered, smiling warmly.

Victor had learned early on that, as soon as he walked outside his door, he must treat everyone he met with kindness and respect…with the possible exception of little snot-nosed brats like Yuri Plisetsky, who could be tweaked for a bit of fun. Everyone else was a potential fan, and fans were important in building him up emotionally and giving him endless reasons to continue. In truth, he was grateful for the attention, though it was a mixed blessing. And it did cross his mind for a moment as he left the car and threw a charming wink at a large group of admirers who had gathered outside the TV studio.

_Even with all of the love they send my way…_

_Sometimes, I feel invisible._

_Sometimes, I want to be invisible._

_Why don't those two feelings ever seem to happen at the same time?_

_What am I missing?_

He swiftly refocused as he was met by Yakov at the studio door. They walked inside and headed to the room where the news crew was waiting. Victor sat down in one of the guest chairs and waited quietly as the producer prepared him for the interview, then he took a breath and smiled, waiting for his cue. Newsman Morooka waited as the camera swung in their direction, then he grinned and started the introduction.

"I'm here, today, in Saint Petersburg, Russia, where a number of the world's best known figure skaters are gearing up for the much anticipated Grand Prix Finals. Perhaps the best known skater in the competition is Russian legend, Victor Nikiforov, who will be attempting to earn a record fifth consecutive title. Victor is here with coach, Yakov Feltsman, to give us a preview of what to expect during the competition. Victor, first, let me say, as always, it's a pleasure to be here with you. Thank you and, of course, Coach Feltsman, for taking the time to meet with us."

"It's no problem. It's good to be here with you also," Victor answered easily.

"What are your thoughts about the upcoming men's singles competition? Do you think that there will be any serious challenges from the field of male skaters?"

Victor's head tilted slightly as he considered.

"Well, you know that Chris Giacometti is always a force to be reckoned with. Although he hasn't ever beaten me, there is a first time for everything, right?"

"Yes," Morooka chuckled, "Yes, there is."

"Along with Chris, I think J.J. Leroy is another skater who should perform well. He has been setting personal bests all season long, and his scores have been impressive."

"They sure have," the newscaster agreed, "Victor, what do you think about Yuuri Katsuki, who will be competing in his first Grand Prix Final?"

"Hmm," Victor mused, "we didn't meet in either of our two events this season, but he did well in his events and he did qualify for the final. I've heard, though, that he is prone to anxiety, so that could be a factor for him. Still, I remember how my first Grand Prix Final motivated me. I think he could perform well, as long as he doesn't lose focus. He is a promising skater, from what I hear."

Their discussion moved on to other topics, then drew to a close. Victor shook hands with Morooka, then headed out to the car with Yakov, and the two returned to the ice rink, where Victor donned his skates again and took to the ice.

"Go over the transitions," Yakov instructed him, "You need to make them smoother."

"They're smooth enough," the younger man complained, "Any smoother and I'll end up in a puddle on the ice. You're just being picky."

"Shut up and do what you're told," Yakov scolded him, "You don't want to get lazy and have that Swiss boy surpass you, do you?"

"It wouldn't be so bad to see Chris win, for once," Victor said, smirking.

"Well, just keep ignoring me and I'm sure it will happen. Now, get out there and work!"

"I'm going," Victor sighed, "Do you always have to be so grouchy?"

"Stop talking and skate!"

"Stop talking and skate…" Victor muttered mockingly under his breath.

He started out doing as he was told, but as soon as his coach turned his back to speak to another skater, the silver-haired skater sank into his thoughts, letting them guide his feet as he daydreamed and skated whatever came to mind. He gave himself over completely to the emotions that were nagging at him, releasing them slowly in graceful turns, increasingly difficult jumps and eye catching spins.

"Victor, what the hell are you doing? That's not what I told you to do!" Yakov scolded him, when he finally noticed.

Victor showed no sign that he had heard, so caught up as he was in his head. Yakov yelled at him again, then shook his head and sighed, turning his attention to his other students. When his practice was over, Victor changed out of his skates and walked back towards home, only to be waylaid near the pub on his way there.

"Come and have dinner with Anya and me," Georgi invited him, as Victor passed his fellow skater.

Victor frowned and shook his head.

"Did she come back to you already?" he asked curiously.

"Well, no," Georgi admitted, "but she'll be here tonight with that ridiculous guy she's dating, so I'll go and do some dancing with the girls at the pub. I'll make her sorry. You want to come and dance too?"

He saw the hesitation and his eyes narrowed.

"You're not going to go home and go to bed early like an old man, now are you?" he teased.

"Shut up!" Victor laughed, "Fine, I'll go with you. I'll post lots of pictures of you and other girls, so she'll get jealous."

"Yes! Perfect!" Georgi laughed, "Come on."

The two entered the club and the evening disappeared into a haze of drinking and dancing. As usual, Victor wasn't completely sure how he got home, but he woke up in his usual spot in the bed. He noticed that Maccachin had abandoned him to sniff around the house and to drink from his water bowl. He turned towards the window, noting for the millionth time that he still left one side of his bed empty.

_There hasn't been anyone there…not for the last five years, at least. I've focused everything on my career…and I suppose this is what I should expect for doing that. It's just that having relationships was like living on a rollercoaster that never stopped. They took too much energy and it interfered with my skating, so I stopped being serious with anyone._

_I can only find new strength on my own._

He drifted off again, and this time, he dreamed of waking up to find that he wasn't alone, that there was a soft, warm body with a pleasant scent that was somewhat sweet, but also distinctively masculine. The body he felt with his was slighter than his, but still well muscled, and although there was softness in the hands that caressed him and the warm mouth that ravaged his, there was delightful firmness there too.

He came awake suddenly, sitting up as his body responded to his dream lover's touch with a shockingly intense climax. Victor's blue-green eyes rounded and he panted in reaction, almost hearing a lovely male voice calling out his name. When the sound disappeared, he buried his face in his hands, aching all over to hear it again.

_Why does this happen?_

_I'm not lonely. I see plenty of people every day. I don't want the distraction of a lover right now. My life is full of people, and none of them really see me when they look at me, anyway._

_In the middle of everything, and with all eyes on me, I feel invisible._

_Yes._

_Sometimes, I feel invisible._

_Sometimes, I want to be invisible._

_Why the fuck can't they ever happen at the same time?_


	2. The Truth in the Rain

**Chapter 2: The Truth in the Rain**

Victor heard the rain coming down outside the house, and he looked over his coffee mug to the old dog that laid, curled up in one of his doggie beds, this one on the kitchen floor. Feeling his master's eyes touch him, the poodle lifted his head for a moment, whined and thumped his tail on the soft fabric of the bed.

"Looks like no running for you today," Victor said conversationally, "I need to think, anyway."

He left the breakfast table and cleaned up the dishes, then he slipped a hooded poncho over his head, leaving the hood off so that he could prepare the playlist on his cell phone. He placed the phone in a protected zipped pocket on the inside of the poncho and put the hood on, then he left the house and jogged out into the rain. As he ran, listening to the music, his mind worked busily at the problem that was growing to nag at him more and more.

_I've been thinking a lot about love recently. It's a theme that can be used in a million different ways. Over the years, I've used quite a few different themes related to love. But I just used something like that this season…Love's longing. I don't want to be repetitive._

_God, this is pathetic, how much work it's taking!_

He reached the end of the running trail and jogged down a street that wound around, rose up over a hillside, then led down to the beach. As he made his way down the curvy road on the hill, the wind blew under the front of his hood, spritzing his comely face with raindrops and finally throwing the hood back altogether. But, so entrenched in his thoughts, the Russian skater merely kept running down the hill and onto the deserted beach, as though rain wasn't quickly soaking his platinum blonde hair and leaking down through the top of the poncho, onto his clothing.

_If I am going to use love as a theme, there has to be something about it that sets it apart from my other programs. I've shown different love situations…Deadly Love, Love on Wings, Matters of the Heart, things like that. Hmm…maybe something about the very nature of love, itself._

_Shit!_

_I don't know. Maybe that would be too…_

He realized suddenly that the rain was coming down harder and was leaking in where his hood had blown back, running down his body and soaking everything except his zipped up phone.

_Oh, who cares. A little rain never hurt anyone. Should I use rain as a theme? No…too boring, although I could think of some great music for that. _

_Storms?_

_Gods Doing Battle?_

_Death?_

_Damn it!_

His feet stopped and he looked out, over the crashing waves, into the grey skies. He remained that way, wearing a distant expression and pushing his mind to the brink, trying to think of something, anything.

"Vitya?"

"Fuck!" the skater shouted, nearly jumping out of his skin as he whirled to face his skating coach, "Yakov, what the hell? You almost scared me to death? And how did you know I was here, anyway? Are you with the goddamned mafia or something?"

"Stop fussing so much," the older man scolded him, "I know where you are, because you are predictable. Everything, down to you not minding your hood and getting soaked."

"What do you want, old man?" Victor complained, "I'm trying to think."

"It doesn't look like it's doing a damned bit of good either."

"Yakov!"

"Come out of the rain, Vitya. You're going to catch pneumonia out here with the rain falling all over you."

"I like the rain," Victor said petulantly.

"Huh," Yakov grunted, "See how much you like it when you are missing competitions because you get yourself sick doing this."

Victor turned back to face the crashing waves, not noticing the sympathetic look his coach gave him as soon as his head was turned.

"It will come to you, Vitya," Yakov said reassuringly, laying a hand on the skater's wet shoulder, "It always does."

"Not this time," Victor sighed, deflating, "Yakov, what if…?"

"Stop that," the older man chided him, squeezing his shoulder, "Everyone has times when it doesn't come easy. If this was easy, then anyone could do it. You have great talent. Trust me, you will find your story to tell."

Victor shook his head agnostically, but a faint smile touched his lips.

"You have to say that. You're my coach."

"And you are my star student."

"What about Yuri?" Victor asked, "He will win the junior championships. You know he will."

"Yes, but he is very young and way too cocky. We'll have to see what happens when he realizes that attitude will not help him upon his entry into the men's singles division. Yuri has a lot to learn."

"I do too," Victor breathed into the wind, "Yakov…"

The older man tugged suddenly on his arm, effectively distracting him and disrupting the onset of melancholy.

"Ack!" Victor yelped as his coach grabbed him and started dragging him towards a waiting car, "Yakov, what are you doing?"

"What am I doing? I am getting your stupid ass out of the goddamned rain so that you don't get sick before the competition!"

"You don't get colds and pneumonia from the cold!" Victor objected as Yakov hustled him to the car and shoved him inside, "You get them _inside_ from germs passed around by other people or bacteria!"

"Look who knows so much," Yakov snorted, sliding into the driver's seat, "If you know so much, why don't you know how to keep the rain off of you, Vitya?"

"I know how," Victor sighed, sinking into the seat, "Where are we going anyway? I don't have practice right now and the interview was yesterday."

"We are going to the clinic," Yakov said, touching a button to lock the doors as he pulled the car away from the curb, "You need your vaccinations."

"What?" Victor yelped, scrabbling at the door, "No, I don't want to! I already had them."

"Well, it's time to update them," Yakov huffed, "You can't leave Russia and go other places to skate if you don't get them updated. You know that."

"But, I'm all wet," Victor complained, "I at least need to change my clothes."

"No way. You are not getting out of this car, except at the clinic," the older man chortled, "I'm not falling for that."

"But, I don't want to," Victor pouted.

"You're acting like a child," Yakov scolded him, "It's just a few shots."

"Oh, I guess that's nothing when you're not the one getting jabbed with sharp things!" Victor argued, "At least, after, take me to Lilia's studio, so she will give me sweets to make me feel better."

"We are _not_ going to bother Lilia. You know she hates being bothered."

"Maybe, by you," Victor said, smirking, but she would never mind seeing her favorite almost son."

"You are _not _Lilia's son!" Yakov snapped, "And we are not going to bother her and get me yelled at."

"But wasn't it in the agreement to share custody of me when you two broke up?" Victor asked, blinking rain out of his eyes.

"Grrr!" Yakov snarled, "There was no custody agreement, because, first of all, you are an adult, even if you don't act like one, and secondly_, you are not our son_! Is our name, Nikiforov or Nikiforova? Why don't you go to your own parents if you want sweets?"

"That's not fair. They live far away. They can't spoil me from where they are."

Yakov gave Victor a sidelong glance, and his expression softened slightly.

"I never get to see them," Victor said defeatedly.

"You are a celebrity," the older man reminded him, "You know what that means."

Victor sighed and slumped further in the seat, cringing as they pulled into the clinic parking lot.

"It means I get stared at, never get to see my family, I have to smile all of the time and I get jabbed with pointy things whenever you can catch me and make me go," he answered sullenly.

Yakov climbed out of the car and opened the passenger door, then he waited as Victor scowled and complained, stalling as much as humanly possible while getting out. The old coach faced Victor and looked into his blue-green eyes quietly.

"You remember why you became a skater?" he asked, "You remember why I agreed to become your coach?"

Victor looked back at him silently.

"If you've forgotten, then maybe after this, we should go and try to remember together. Is that what you need, Vitya?"

Victor took a slow breath and let it out even more slowly.

"I haven't forgotten," he answered somberly, "The truth is, I don't know for how much longer I can…I need something, Yakov, and I don't know what it is."

Yakov gave him a stern look.

"I tell you what you need," he grumbled, "You need to get your ass into that clinic and get your vaccinations!"

"You're mean, Yakov!" Victor complained, but he grudgingly followed the older man into the clinic.

"This is Victor Nikiforov," Yakov told the receptionist.

"I'm not five," Victor said impatiently, "I can do it myself."

"Right this way, Victor," the nurse laughed, "We're all ready for you."

"It figures you are all in on tricking me to come here," Victor sighed, falling in behind the nurse as Yakov dropped into a chair in the waiting area.

Less than a minute later, the nurse returned, wearing a perplexed expression.

Yakov scowled.

"Again?" he said, shaking his head.

"He actually didn't faint until after the last shot this time," the nurse giggled.

"I don't know why I put up with him," the old coach muttered as he followed the nurse into the examination room.

He lifted the unconscious skater over his shoulder and sighed resignedly.

"I'm getting too old for his shit," he grumbled as he carried Victor out of the clinic and deposited him in the car.

He pulled his cell phone out of his coat and punched in a number, then waited as the phone rang.

"What do you want, Yakov?" his ex-wife's stern voice asked impatiently, "It better be important."

"Eh, Vitya passed out at the doctor again while getting his vaccinations," Yakov explained.

"Oh, poor boy," Lilia said, her tone softening instantly, "Bring him over. I'll have lunch waiting for both of you here."

She hung up before Yakov could answer. The old coach glared at his collapsed skater who laid across the back seat.

"It's your fault she left me, you know," he complained, "You caused all kinds of trouble, but the one who she always blamed for it was me."

He drove a little further in silence before stealing another glance at the unconscious skater.

"Eh, maybe you did me a favor…"

He pulled into the roundabout in front of Lilia's luxurious estate and stopped in front of the main house. As the car rolled to a stop, Victor stirred and brushed the hair away from his eyes. He looked around and broke into a wide smile as Lilia came out the front door to greet them. She grabbed Victor into a strong hug.

"Are you all right, Vitya?" she asked sympathetically.

"They poked me all full of holes!" Victor whimpered, "It was terrible!"

"It's okay. We'll get you something good to eat. You're so thin. Is Yakov being bad to you?" the elder woman asked, turning a displeased eye on her former husband.

"No, no, no," Victor assured her, "but I could use something sweet…to make up for the blood loss."

"Blood loss!" Yakov objected, "It was just a couple of goddamned vaccinations, not major surgery!"

"Would you stop yelling and swearing, old man?" Lilia nagged him, "You make me glad I divorced you."

"You didn't divorce me. I divorced you," the old man muttered under his breath.

"I should have gotten a better custody arrangement for you," Lilia said, caressing Victor's cheek, as though he was a child.

"He isn't even our son!" Yakov shouted.

"Come, come," Lilia purred, making Victor grin mischievously over his shoulder at Yakov, who snarled to himself and stomped into the house behind them.

Victor sneezed suddenly and Lilia took a closer look at him.

"What is this? Did he have you skating outside in the rain or something?" she asked accusingly.

"What? No!" Yakov exclaimed, "He was running on the beach and…"

"Out in this weather?" Lilia asked stridently, "No wonder he caught a cold."

"You don't get colds from being out in the rain," Yakov argued.

"Here, let's go and get you out of those wet clothes," the old lady clucked, loosening the buttons on Victor's shirt.

"You shouldn't be undressing him at his age."

"Well, you shouldn't be trying to kill him, making him practice out in the rain."

"He wasn't even practicing!"

"Ahem," an amused looking house attendant said, to get their attention, "Lunch is served."

"Go and put on a robe from the guest room. I think a few of your things are in there."

"Why do you have a collection of his clothes in your guest room?" Yakov asked dryly.

"He has to have a place to go when you abuse him too much."

"Last time I checked, I was his coach. I get paid to abuse him," Yakov joked.

"Not on my watch," Lilia said stubbornly.

"You know, I'm a little tired," Victor said, smiling at their antics, "Could I lie down and eat later?"

"I'll have it brought to your room," Lilia assured him, feeling his forehead, then kissing his cheek, "and I'll have my doctor come by. You feel like you have a fever."

"I'm sure I'm fine."

"No, you don't," Lilia said firmly, "You'll see the doctor. Go lie down."

Victor sighed and left the two arguing. But by the time he had reached the guest room, he heard their tone change. And before long, he heard a little bit of thumping, then Lilia's voice sounded again.

"We'll take our meal in my bedroom."

Victor snickered and dropped onto the bed, rolling onto his belly to look out the bedroom window at the falling rain.

_I don't know why they got divorced. They fight a lot, but they always end up in the bedroom together. Though, I suppose that, to thrive, a relationship needs more than that, but who am I to judge? I have a string of failed relationships and I have no idea what to do to make one that will last._

He sneezed again and felt a little shiver go through him. A little foray to the closet yielded a warm robe, and he snuggled into the bed, sighing as the door opened and his meal was delivered to the room. He sat back against the pillows, eating and looking out at the falling rain.

_Relationships are complicated. Five years have passed since my last, and I don't feel any closer to knowing what makes love endure. Is love that lasts the more innocent kind of love? Or is it wise and knowing? What is it that decides?_

_What?_

Still filled with questions, he finished his meal, then laid down and fell asleep to the sound of the rain.

But just beneath it, he picked up the beginnings of an unwritten song.

_Ah, maybe I'm not without inspiration._

_Maybe there is some hope left._


	3. Eros and Agape

**Chapter 3: Eros and Agape**

Victor felt a little touch of happy surprise as he woke the next morning, still in the guest bed in Lilia's mansion, and with an even more pronounced sniffle, but curled warmly around the fluffy body of his beloved poodle.

"Maccachin?" he chuckled, hugging the old dog, who thumped his tail on the bed and licked his sleepy master's smiling face, "Did Yakov go and bring you? How nice of him."

He ruffled the hair on the dog's head playfully.

"He's such a good father, isn't he?" the Russian skater giggled, "I know. I know. I'm _not_ his son!"

He laughed again, then sat up and stretched. His blue-green eyes looked out the window and his head tilted slightly as he noticed that the rain from the day before had become snow.

_Well, it is that time of year._

One slender, graceful hand reached over to grab a tissue and he sat up and blew his nose.

_Ah, thank goodness Lilia only buys the really soft, lotion treated tissues. The ones that Yakov uses feel like rubbing cardboard on my nose._

He stifled a sneeze and winced at the loudness that disrupted the peace of the bedroom. His breath caught for a moment and he listened, but didn't hear any footsteps.

_Thank goodness. It's just a little cold, but Lilia is an overprotective mom._

Victor pulled Maccachin close again and sat, quietly gazing out the window at the lightly falling snow, his mind wandering.

_I'm glad I stayed over. Yakov stayed over too. We may not be biologically related, but the people around a competitive athlete will often do what we've done and form a little family. I'm glad. I would have been a lot more lonely, leaving my family at eight years old to be trained at the academy if I had not had the love of Yakov and Lilia. And even though they did divorce, we still act like a family when we're together._

A tap on the bedroom door, made him look up, and a house attendant entered and set tea at his bedside.

"Thank you, Fedya," he said politely.

"You are quite welcome, Vitya," the old, gentle, brown-eyed man said, nodding, "Enjoy your tea, sir. The doctor will be in shortly to see you."

Victor shook his head, laughing softly.

"Now, you at least know I don't need a doctor," he said, smirking, "It's just a little cold."

"Well, Miss Lilia always proceeds with extra caution when it comes to her loved ones, Vitya," the old man chuckled, "especially you."

Fedya reached into his pocket and turned his friendly smile on Maccachin.

"And don't think I've forgotten you, old friend," he said, feeding the happy poodle a dog treat, "Good boy, Maccachin. It's always a pleasure."

His eyes rose and met Victor's again.

"Can I bring you anything else, sir?" he asked.

"No, no, this is fine. Thank you," Victor said gratefully.

"Very well. Miss Lilia will see you in the ballet studio when you are ready."

He started to leave, but turned back, smiling as he laid a silvery dance outfit on the bed.

"I almost forgot. Your dance clothes, sir. Please wear them when you go to meet Miss Lilia."

"Hmm, thank you," Victor said, sipping at his tea.

_Earl Grey._

_I think it's funny that Lilia drinks it more because she likes the name than that she enjoys the flavor. I like different things at different times. When I come here, I like it because it feels like home._

He looked up and smiled as Lilia's young, handsome physician tapped on the door and entered the room.

_I think she has a young, good looking doctor just to rankle Yakov. She always thinks of a reason to call him over. It's cute how she plays with Yakov and tries to make him jealous. They should just get back together again._

_I wonder if Lilia knows this guy is gay? Oh wait, of course she does. She's probably trying to cheer me up by getting me laid or something._

"Good morning, Victor," the doctor greeted him, giving him a warm smile and an admiring look, "Miss Lilia said that you were on your deathbed again."

"She didn't really say that, Sasha," Victor snickered, "I'm pretty much fine. I just have a sniffle."

"I know, but I should actually do some work sometimes. I think she keeps me around as a showpiece."

"Well, she does like beautiful things," Victor teased, "That's probably why she keeps me around too."

"That woman loves you like the son she never had."

"She doesn't like children," Victor said, moving to sit on the edge of the bed as Sasha approached him.

"Ah, but you are special."

"Did she tell you to come in here and flatter me or to come in and seduce me so that she could watch it on the security video later?" Victor joked.

Despite their levity, the doctor's hands were professional and caring as he checked the Russian skater's vital signs and examined his eyes, ears and throat before stepping back and shaking his head.

"Is it fatal, Doctor?" Victor asked, smirking.

"Yes, yes," Sasha said dramatically, "You should take me to bed immediately so that you will have one last fling before you die on us. Shall we do that now?"

"I don't want to give you my cold," Victor sighed, "I guess I will just have to die an anal virgin."

Sasha's eyes widened in surprise.

"You're joking, right?" he asked, "I know you've had boyfriends and girlfriends. What in god's name were you doing with those pretty boys, if not having sex very frequently?"

Victor shrugged.

"With a few, I was underage and they knew Yakov kept a shotgun around and when I was of age, I dated mostly girls. Honestly, I don't know if I would like anal sex. I've heard it's painful."

Sasha laughed.

"It's no worse than getting a shot," he teased.

"I _faint_ when I get shots," Victor snorted.

"I know. I was playing with you. Seriously, it's not that bad. Take it slow, use lots of lubricant and stretch the…"

"I don't want a lover, Sasha," Victor sighed, deflating and bringing a more caring look to the youthful doctor's eyes, "The girls leave me because no matter what I do, it's not enough and the boys leave me, probably because half of them just want to say they've slept with me, but I won't go all of the way with them."

"And why is that, do you suppose?" Sasha asked, slipping a warm palm under Victor's chin and raising it so that their eyes met.

He looked into Victor's troubled blue-green orbs and shook his head.

"Hmm, I see. A very advanced case of looking for Mr. Right," the doctor concluded.

"I'm not looking for _anyone_!" Victor objected, "I'm…"

His breath caught as the doctor bent and engaged his mouth in a long, open-mouthed kiss. Victor's eyes closed and he felt something flash in the back of his mind. But before he could bring the image into focus, the doctor sighed sympathetically and stepped back to look at him appraisingly.

"Oh, you _definitely_ want a lover," Sasha said with perfect seriousness, "It's just that he's going to have to be a very special boy to win your heart."

"I don't think winning my heart is the problem," Victor sighed, "Maybe it's that…he's already won my heart, but I just don't know who he is yet."

"Well, I've done all I can," Sasha said, laying a hand on Victor's cheek, "If you want to live, you will actually really try to find this guy. And when you do, slap him for stealing you away from the rest of us."

"If I do that, he probably won't like me very much."

"Me? I'd love a good slap, but suit yourself. Drink that tea and try to rest a little."

"The short program for the Grand Prix Finals is in a couple of days. When do I have time for that?"

"Well, don't blame me if your cold gets worse," Sasha chuckled, "Take care, Victor."

"You too," Victor answered, smiling, "I really hope you don't catch my cold."

"It's okay if I do," Sasha laughed, "I'm sure that even your cold will be beautiful."

Victor felt a lighter mood set in as he finished his tea and slipped into the flattering dance clothes. He left the bedroom and headed out of the back of the main house and into Lilia's large, private studio. The elderly former dancer smiled widely and motioned for him to join her.

"Warm ups," she instructed him.

_Lilia was the best dance instructor I ever had. She was demanding, but she taught me perfect form. It made such a difference in my skating. I really owe her for that._

He moved gracefully alongside her, slowly warming up his muscles as she guided him through their usual preparations.

"Did Sasha behave himself with you?" Lilia asked sternly, "I will fire him if he offended you."

"No, he was very professional. He's a good kisser too."

"Oh," Lilia said, "are you two interested in each other?"

"No, I think he was just doing his best to cheer me up. It was nice. I haven't been kissed like that in awhile. And even when I have, I always seem to do most of the work. It felt…different, being a little surprised like that."

Lilia's stern eyes blinked slowly, then registered comprehension. She turned suddenly and wrapped an arm around him, turning him and dipping him, then looking down into his surprised eyes. She held him there for a moment, then let him stand again.

"What was that for?" Victor asked, looking confused.

"I think I know why you are unhappy," she concluded.

"Please, don't tell me again that I need a lover," Victor complained, "_Everyone_ says that, but I'm not a good partner. I always…"

"I wasn't going to say you need a lover," Lilia snapped softly, making him pause and gaze at her questioningly.

"You weren't?" Victor asked.

"No, I wasn't."

Lilia thought for a moment, then she extended a hand, palm upward.

"Show me Eros."

_It was in some of our lessons, when she was teaching me about how to come across the right way to the audience. Sometimes, in some dances, a man needs to look sexy and commanding…Eros._

He spun and danced towards her, taking her extended hand and pulling her to him, then he wrapped his arms around her and dipped her, letting his eyes darken and glaze slightly with pretend lust. Lilia sighed contentedly.

"That is a beautiful Eros," she complimented him, "Now, show me _Agape_.

_Sometimes in performance, a man must surrender power and look vulnerable._

Victor's eyes softened with love and longing, and his movements changed to underscore the feeling as he danced the next sequence. As he came to the end, Lilia grabbed him again and dipped him, then looked into his widened eyes searchingly. She raised him slowly and studied him quietly for a moment.

"You need to find someone who can meet you in both ways," she concluded.

Victor gave her an even more confused look and Lilia gave a deeper, more impatient sigh.

"You need to fully embrace Eros and Agape…and you need to find someone else who does this too," the aged dancer chided him.

Victor felt an odd tickle in his insides and his blue-green eyes registered understanding.

"Good," Lilia said approvingly, "Now, I can see that you have something in your mind. Go and think about it."

"But we barely got to dance at all," Victor complained, "It's fun dancing with you."

Lilia shook her head firmly.

"You need to think about this before it slips out of your head again. Just wear a good coat if you go running in the snow, okay? I don't want you really getting sick."

"Okay, I'll wear a coat," Victor laughed.

He sighed softly and embraced her for a moment.

"Thank you."

Lilia kissed him on the cheek.

"What are mothers for?" she chuckled.

The two looked at each other and laughed, then Victor left the studio and walked slowly back to the house. He took his time showering and dressing, then he headed home at a jog with Maccachin at his side.

_Eros and Agape_, he mused, picturing the two versions of himself in his head, _I do understand them, but I don't know which one is more me. With women, I tend to be Eros. And maybe that is the problem. The girls who expressed interest in me always wanted that sexy person they saw in my programs on the ice, but the truth is, I can't be like that all of the time. I mean, it felt good when Sasha surprised me with a kiss, and I like the feeling of being dipped by a strong person._

_I don't know if I want to be Agape, though. Agape is innocent, full of unconditional love. But people like that get taken advantage of. I don't know how well I would embrace Agape. Still, she said that I should explore both of them, and she's probably right._

_You know…I think…I hear…music._

He breathed slowly as he continued to jog, letting the feeling of Eros spread over him, then switching and feeling Agape seep in.

_They both have their appeal. And when you put the two together, they really balance each other. Maybe I don't have to be one or the other. Maybe it's like Lilia said. Maybe there is someone who is like me…who is really that different at different times and wants that variety of being._

He reached his house and headed inside, where he fed Maccachin and made himself a mug of hot coffee and chocolate with more than a little peppermint liquor. He sat down at the table, slowly enjoying the hot beverage and continuing to consider. He had just finished when his cell phone rang. He touched the button to answer the call and instantly regretted it as Yakov's shouting voice filled the kitchen, making Victor wince and scrunch up his face at the noise.

"Vitya, where the hell are you? It's the day before we leave for Sochi and we have practice scheduled starting fifteen minutes ago. Get your ass down here. It's not like you don't need the practice."

"Sorry Yakov," Victor answered in a sincere tone, "I forgot about the time change for practice. I'll be there in ten minutes."

"I want you here ten minutes ago!" Yakov snapped.

"I'm on my way."

Victor ended the call and looked down at Maccachin with a perplexed expression.

"Now, why didn't I remember that we were having practice early today?"

He left the house with Maccachin on his heels and jogged quickly to the ice center, where he hurriedly put on his skates and entered the rink.

"Well, it's about goddamned time you showed up," Yuri Plisetsky nagged him as he began his warm up, "Not that either one of us is likely to face any challenge or anything, but if I have to come and get nagged to death by that old geezer, you should at least have to put up with him too."

"He's not so bad," Victor chuckled, smirking at his younger teammate, "besides, you need to work on your step sequence."

"Shut up about my step sequence!" Yuri shouted, using his toe pick to flick ice at Victor as he skated by, "It's not like it makes a difference."

"It_ should_ make a difference to you," Victor chided him, "You should always be trying to improve your scores."

"Why? A win is a win, so who cares?" Yuri huffed, skating away.

"Someone has some growing up to do," Victor sighed.

"Vitya, practice those transitions!" Yakov called out to him.

"Got it," Victor answered.

He gave a bored sigh and began to practice the requested transitions in his programs, then when Yakov turned away to speak to another skater, he broke off, his mind wandering back to the exchange that had happened at Lilia's mansion.

_Eros? Or Agape? _he wondered, _I should use one for my next short program…but which? I can imagine both. Eros…sexual love…pleasure layered upon pleasure until you are drowning in it…_

"Oh my!" Mila's voice said nearby, bringing Victor suddenly out of his reverie.

His feet stopped and he looked at the red-haired woman questioningly.

"Sorry," Mila giggled, "I didn't mean to interrupt you while you were working, Victor. Just, if you are going to keep doing that, you want to offer tissues to the women around here for the nosebleeds."

_Maybe I should just perform Agape._


	4. Torn

**Chapter 4: Torn**

Victor ignored the cameras, lights and extra commotion as he swept across the ice, his mind deeply focused, not on the competition that everyone was so up in arms about, but the two opposing themes that did battle for dominance in his mind.

_Eros…sexual love…pleasure, layered upon pleasure, until you are drowning in it…_

_Agape…unconditional love…like God's love or a parent's…_

_Each one has its appeal, but which one should I use for my short program? I would say whichever one would surprise the audience more, but for some reason, it seems like no matter what I do, it doesn't surprise anyone anymore. Time after time, program after program, year after year, I've been able to start over and give the audience something fresh and exciting. I'm known for doing that. Yakov has scolded me for it, although he couldn't argue with my success over the years. It seemed like I had an endless bounty of surprises to offer._

_But…this time is different._

"Hey," Yuri Plisetsky called out, "what exactly are you doing?"

Victor slowed and stopped to rest alongside his more youthful companion.

"What do you mean?" he asked, frowning.

"You look like you don't know what the hell you want to do today. You'd better get your head together or those reporters are going to think something's wrong."

"They can think what they want to," Victor sighed, "Many of them have already decided I'm retiring after this season."

"Huh, maybe you should," Yuri huffed, "After this season, you're not going to be the top skater anyway. You should quit while you're ahead."

"Hmm, maybe," Victor teased, smirking, "but you know I'm not the kind of person to do what anyone is expecting. It would have to be a surprise."

He skated away before Yuri could answer.

_Really though? My programs this season are very strong. My scores are as high as ever, and I've added a new dimension to my performance in the free skate. If this keeps up, it will quell the rumors of me wanting to quit, that's for sure. It could set up a scenario in which I could retire and it would shock people._

_But…I don't want to quit._

_I am a figure skater. I love what I do. I want to be a figure skater for as long as I can. I don't want to quit yet. But…if I want to keep on skating, I have to find my motivation. I just wonder where I will find it. Can I even find it here in Saint Petersburg? Do I need to go somewhere else? What is holding me back this time? Is it that I need new surroundings? New people around me? What? What is it that I need to keep going?_

The question continued to nag at him as he finished his practice and listened absently to Yakov's nagging before heading home to pack for the trip to Sochi.

"Come, Maccachin," he called to his old poodle, "you're going to stay with Lilia while I'm away."

He tried not to hear the sad little whine that his words brought on.

_I feel like a shit. I never get to let down. I don't get to spend enough time with him. Between skating practice, weight training, dance classes, interviews and getting drunk to fight the stress, I don't have much time left. Neither one of us is getting any younger._

_When I get back, I will take a little time to just play with him._

_We both need the break._

_But who am I kidding? After the Grand Prix Final, there are nationals, the European championships and worlds. It just never seems to let up. That didn't used to bother me. I suppose it only does right now because I feel frustrated._

_What is it?_

_What do I need?_

He was still mulling over the question all of the way to Lilia's, where he hugged Maccachin and said goodbye, and he still had no answers as he reached the airport and boarded the plane. Talking to other skaters on the team gave him no peace, so he finally retreated to his seat and indulged in several glasses of champagne to stop his brooding. The alcohol made him sleepy, which he was grateful for, since the flight was a long one. But eventually, the plane landed in Sochi and he had to disembark.

His mind still muddied from the champagne, he completely failed to see the young, brown-eyed foreigner who spotted him and sucked in a surprised breath, freezing and staring as Victor passed by him, close enough for the young man to reach out and touch him.

"Yuuri!" an older man's voice called, "Come, I've got your bag."

A tiny yelp escaped the Japanese skater as Victor's head turned and his face broke into a friendly smile.

"Hello, Celestino," he called out cheerfully.

"Hello, Victor," Celestino called back as Victor nodded, then continued on his way, not seeming to notice the young man next to the coach, who continued to gape at him breathlessly.

"Yuuri," Celestino said, shaking his head.

Yuuri's open mouth closed and his eyes blinked as he came back to awareness. Celestino followed the path of his skater's gaze and chuckled.

"Why didn't you say hello?" Celestino said, shaking his head, "He's a person, like you and me. Victor is kind to his fans."

"Uh…s-sorry," Yuuri managed breathlessly, "I was just surprised by him. I wasn't expecting we'd meet just yet. I didn't know what to say."

"Heh, heh, you just say hello," Celestino said, patting him on the back, "I am sure he doesn't bite."

"Yeah," Yuuri laughed anxiously, "probably not."

"Come on. I'm sure you'll get your chance to talk to Victor and be more polite to him later."

"R-right," Yuuri said, falling in at Celestino's side.

They left the terminal and headed out to where a taxi waited. The driver loaded their bags in the trunk of the car and Yuuri climbed into the back seat, next his coach.

"The hotel is a really nice one," Celestino said conversationally, "There's an inside swimming pool and there are shops and restaurants that you can go to without going outside in the cold."

"Oh, that's good," Yuuri said, looking absently out the window.

_It's hard to believe I'm really here. I worked hard to qualify. I was surprised that I actually did. It hardly feels real._

_And when I saw Victor up close like that…_

_I smelled his scent. It was a sort of sweet scent, but not flowery, and I smelled champagne, so he must have been drinking on the flight. They serve champagne in first class, where he would have been. He was smiling, but…it looked a little like his eyes were tired. Probably from the long flight._

_I feel stupid for not even saying something to him. He probably thinks I'm rude…that is, if he noticed me at all._

He only half paid attention to Celestino's continued praise of the location and everything around it. It was a relief to Yuuri when they reached the hotel and left the car to go up to their rooms. Celestino left him at the door to his room and Yuuri walked inside and turned on the light, sighing softly in relief at finally being alone. He heard female voices speaking in Russian in the hallway, then he heard a male voice that he knew he would recognize anywhere.

_It's him._

_He's speaking in Russian, so I don't know what he's saying, but I love the way his voice sounds…so smooth and happy and friendly. I wish I could open the door and…and what? I suppose I could act like I'm going out somewhere. I am kind of hungry, but…I don't know._

_I should open the door._

_Yeah, I should go out and get something to eat. Maybe if I do, then he will say something. Because I know if he looks at me like before, I won't be able to say anything. That's the way I am around him. I feel so stupid!_

He took a step towards the door, then froze, his heart pounding like a drum. He put his ear to the door, listening to Victor's laughter and happy chatter, pretending that Victor was smiling at him, talking to him…kissing him.

Yuuri blinked in surprise and gave a fearful little yelp.

_Why did I think that?_

Yuuri gritted his teeth, frowning in determination.

_I'm going to do it. I'm going to go out there, and if he looks at me, I'm going to give him a greeting in Russian. I've practiced it a million times. I know how. _

_I can do this._

He put his hand on the doorknob…and his cell phone chose that exact moment to ring. He looked down at the number, then touched a button to answer.

"Hello? Mom?" he mused, "Yeah, I just got here."

He paused, his frown deepening at the sadness he heard beneath his mother's trying to be cheerful voice.

"I'm afraid there's some bad news, Yuuri," Hiroko said.

Yuuri felt his insides freeze.

"What is it, Mom?" he asked.

"It's Vic-chan," his mother explained, "We don't know what happened. He got very sick. We were going to tell you, but we were trying to wait until we knew what was making him sick. We took him to the vet, but he passed away this morning. I'm…so sorry, Yuuri."

Yuuri's throat tightened and he couldn't say anything for a moment.

"Yuuri?"

"S-sorry, Mom," he apologized.

"I know you must be really upset. I wish I could be there."

"It's okay," he said softly, "I'll be okay, really Mom. I am sad, but…I'm sure that you did all you could."

"We did. We'll make sure that he gets a loving goodbye. We'll tell him goodbye for you. I promise."

"Thanks, Mom," Yuuri whispered, "I uh…have to go. Coach is here."

He touched the button to end the call, then walked over to the bed and sat down.

"Vic-chan," he whispered, putting his face in his hands, "I'm sorry I wasn't there."

He remained on the bed, silently crying, even ignoring when Coach Celestino knocked on the door, calling to him to go out to dinner. Loathe to go outside his room, he ordered a huge meal from room service, then sat by the window, looking out at the rain until a knock came on the door. Thinking it was his food, he got up and went to answer it. Rubbing his eyes and sniffing, he opened the door, then he froze, staring as he found himself face to face with none other than Victor Nikiforov. The Russian skater started to say something in Russian, then he paused, realizing he had made some sort of mistake, and he quickly apologized.

"Oh, sorry, I thought this was someone else's room," he said in English, "Sorry to bother you."

He continued down the hallway, leaving Yuuri unmoving and staring at the place he had been.

_Oh my god, that was pathetic!_ Yuuri scolded himself, _I should have said something! Anything! Again, I could have talked to him, but I couldn't say a word. He must think I'm an idiot!_

_I am an idiot._

He started to turn back inside, but spotted his food order being wheeled down the hallway. He sighed wearily and opened the door, stepping out of the way so the deliveryman could push the cart inside. He looked around, as though expecting more people to be there, then he looked at Yuuri for a moment.

"Oh, sorry," Yuuri apologized, taking a bit of money out of his bag.

_God, I don't even know how much is right_, he mused, looking down at the bills and coins in his hands.

The deliveryman smiled kindly and touched one of the bills. Yuuri managed a little smile and handed it to him, then he started to close the door behind him. But again, he heard Victor's smooth, happy sounding voice, and he saw his idol walking down the hallway towards him.

"Mmmm," Victor sighed, smelling the air, "someone better be inviting me to dinner because that smells so good!"

Yuuri panicked and closed the door quickly, cringing at the loud noise it made.

_Why don't I just slam the door in his face? I should have been polite! I should have…_

_Oh man…I wish I could just disappear._

_I want to be invisible._

XXXXXXXXXX

Victor looked around the hallway, frowning.

_So, it wasn't 2342 or 2432. Was is 2324? 2423? Which room was Chris's?_

He breathed a sigh of relief as one of the doors near him opened and Christophe Giacometti poked his head out into the hallway.

"Hi there, Victor," he snickered, "Did you get lost?"

"I got the numbers all mixed up," Victor giggled, "I must have had too much champagne on the airplane."

"Oh, I don't think there's any such thing," Chris said flippantly, "So, what trouble do you want to get into? Shall we have dinner? Go to a dance club?"

"We should do both and afterward…"

The two exchanged amused glances.

"_Skinny dipping_!" they said together.

They continued walking to the elevators and took one down to the shops and restaurants.

"Let's go shopping, Chris," Victor suggested.

"Oh, but I'm hungry and thirsty too," Chris complained.

"But if we eat now, we'll get wasted and we won't want to shop," Victor reminded him.

"That's probably true," Chris agreed, looking around at the shops, "Ugh, but I don't feel like shopping. How about we go shopping tomorrow instead?"

"Didn't we do this before?" Victor asked, smirking, "At the last Grand Prix Final, every day, you said we'd go shopping, but we kept going out to eat and got drunk and forgot."

"Well," Chris said, pulling out his phone and typing a message, "here, I just messaged you to remind you we'll go shopping tomorrow."

"Good idea," Victor said approvingly.

"Oh shit, I think I texted to the wrong number," Chris laughed.

"Yeah, it's not showing up on my phone."

Chris shook his head and let out a huff of breath.

"See, it's just not meant to be. Let's go have some food and get wasted and dance," he suggested.

"All right, but I do want to go shopping tomorrow. I haven't been shopping in ages!"

"Fine. Come on," Chris said, taking Victor's arm and pulling him along.

"All right, I'm coming," Victor laughed.

They moved from restaurant to restaurant on the hotel's mezzanine, considering until they found one that served food and had a full bar menu.

"And look, there's even dancing too!" Victor said happily, "This looks great. Let's go in here."

In moments, the two young men were seated in a booth and looking over menus.

"Maybe I just want to get started dancing," Chris said, looking around, "Hey, there's my date. Hey, Masumi! Over here. Come on, let's dance!"

Victor chuckled, watching as the two made their way to the busy dance floor. Victor perused the menu, looking over the many options, but feeling slightly distracted.

_Maybe I should start dancing too,_ he thought, looking over at his two dancing friends, _If I sit here alone, I'm going to start thinking about those programs again._

His eyes narrowed as they moved from sexy, Eros-like Chris to the more innocent looking Masumi.

_Eros? Or Agape?_

_Sexual love or unconditional love?_

He frowned and blinked as a sudden image flickered in the back of his mind…a memory of someone who he wasn't sure whether or not he had really seen. He caught a brief mental image of slightly messy hair and large brown eyes, but found he couldn't place them.

_What is wrong with my head today?_ he wondered.

Finally, he ordered a drink, then abandoned the table, moving out to the dance floor, where it was easy to find someone who wanted to dance. He switched partners often, enjoying the chance to meet and talk to a lot of different people. If nothing else, it took his mind off of the struggle to define his next program.

The dancing and drinking continued until late in the night, when Chris, Masumi and Victor staggered out of the club and headed back up to their rooms. Victor stumbled down the hallway to his room and fell onto the bed, already mostly asleep.

_I wish Maccachin was here. I always hug him and it helps me to sleep._

He did manage to convince his poor, drunk and exhausted body to drop off, but even so, he was harassed as he slept with two images that crashed around in his head…one a sweet looking brown-eyed boy who looked like someone he thought he might have seen before, and the other, also with brown eyes, but narrowed and with sexy, smirking lips and a seductive posture.

_God, can you just leave me alone so I can sleep?_

But his body couldn't help but react to the two colliding images. They spun and warped and combined until he thought they might be the same person.

_Eros._

_Agape._

_What can I do?_

_This is killing me._


	5. Grand Prix Final: Short Program

**Chapter 5: Grand Prix Final of Tears – Short Program**

"Well, Yuuri," Celestino said as he led the Japanese skater into the Sochi arena, "you are excited, yes? We're finally here. What do you think?"

Yuuri took a shaky little breath before answering, and he looked around at the people heading into the arena for the morning's public practice.

_It's more like I'm terrified_, he thought, _I don't feel so well, but I don't know if it's just that I'm nervous, if it's that I'm still really sad about Vic-chan dying or if I made myself sick eating so much last night. I'm a mess. I don't feel like I really belong here._

"Um, yeah," he chuckled nervously, "it is exciting."

His coach slipped a supportive arm around his shoulders and he coaxed Yuuri forward into the corridor that led to the skater preparation area. All around them, skaters, coaches, media personnel and rink staff were making their way inside. They reached the end of the corridor and turned into the skater prep room. Immediately upon entering, Yuuri's eyes found an all too familiar runner jacket he had seen a million times on TV and several times the day before when he had repeatedly crossed paths with his idol, the skating legend, Victor Nikiforov. His eyes rounded taking in the sight of Victor's perfect bottom as the Russian skater bent to stretch his leg muscles, then slowly returned to a standing position.

_Oh my god…_

"Come this way," Celestino said, nearly making him jump out of his skin, "You can change into your skates over here."

Sitting down, Yuuri found himself in the perfect position to watch Victor without looking like he was watching. He was glad for the fact that the simple act of putting on his skates seemed to take his mind off of feeling awkward, being in the presence of the man who had inspired him for years with his beautiful skating. He watched Victor out of the corner of one eye as the Russian skater's longtime competitor and friend, Christophe Giacometti approached Victor and the two began to chat too quietly for him to hear.

"You've got an admirer," Chris snickered softly.

Victor started to turn to look, but the Swedish skater, placed a hand on his arm to stop him.

"Don't look," Chris giggled, "I think you'll scare him away."

"Scare who away?" Victor asked, stealing a glance around his friend, "The Japanese boy? Yuuri Katsuki?"

"You've met?"

"Eh…sort of," Victor answered, smirking, "I accidentally knocked on his door when I was looking for your room."

The Russian skater frowned.

"I apologized, but I don't think he said anything."

"He has attacks of nerves, you know," Chris informed him.

"I've heard that," Victor acknowledged, continuing to stretch as they talked, "I've heard that he's very talented, but his nerves get in the way sometimes."

"Oh really?" Chris purred, "Well, have you heard that you're the reason he became a skater?"

"What?" Victor inquired, "That's cute. I'm glad he felt so inspired. It's great that it brought him all of the way here. That's flattering."

"Isn't it oh so romantic?" Chris teased him.

"Stop," Victor chided him, shaking his head.

"Why don't you go over and say something to him?" Chris suggested, "I think he would faint!"

Victor frowned and bit his lip gently, stealing another glance at the Japanese skater, who had finished putting his skates on and was stretching as Celestino talked to him.

"I don't think I want to unsettle him," he answered, "Maybe after the short program."

"Who knows? Maybe it would inspire him and he might surprise everyone and beat us all," Chris laughed, "You never know."

"What are you doing, laughing and joking around?" Yakov demanded suddenly, startling Victor as the old coach came up behind him, "You should be focusing on your warm up."

"You could have killed me, Yakov!" Victor complained, "Don't sneak up on me like that!"

Victor felt someone's eyes watching and turned his head to see Yuuri Katsuki looking in his and Yakov's direction. He tried giving the young man a friendly wink, but Yuuri's eyes rounded as though he'd been hit with something and he turned away quickly.

_Did I do something wrong? I wonder did I offend him somehow? I haven't even really met him, not officially anyway. Maybe I should…_

"Vitya, time is wasting," Yakov scolded him, "Get out there on the ice and practice!"

"I'm going. I'm going," Victor sighed, shaking his head and heading to the rink entrance.

He felt Yuuri watching him again, but was careful not to look. Instead, he turned his attention to his warm up.

_Maybe we'll get a chance to meet properly when he gets out here with the rest of us_, Victor reasoned, _He's very flighty. I hope I didn't make his nerves worse. I was trying to be nice to him. Am I really that scary?_

He sighed softly and continued his workout as Yuuri kept to the other end of the rink, practicing alone, without interacting with any of the other skaters.

Yuuri finished his warm up and began to work on his short program, but found himself helplessly distracted by the presence of his idol, who was warming up and practicing, just on the other side of the rink.

_I've never skated on the same ice as Victor before. I know I don't stand a chance of beating him, but I made it here. I'm one of the final six. I'm going to go out there and do my best to show Victor I belong here with him. I worked hard for this. I…_

Yuuri gasped as he entered a jump with too little speed and he landed badly and fell. He started to climb to his feet, but a warm hand took his and pulled him up. Yuuri froze as he found himself standing on the ice, face to face with Victor.

_Again._

_I HAVE TO SAY SOMETHING!_

"You all right?" Victor asked, smiling at him.

"Um...erm…f-fine," Yuuri stammered, "Thanks."

"It's no problem," Victor said cheerfully, "Why don't you…?"

"Vitya, get back over here!" Yakov snapped, "Do you think you have time to stand around and chat? You need to be training."

Victor shrugged and shook his head.

"Sorry, he's extra grouchy on competition days. Maybe we'll see each other around."

Yuuri stared as Victor turned and skated away, then he gritted his teeth and shook his head at his embarrassing behavior.

_I must look like an idiot. That wasn't a hard jump. I was just distracted._

He took a breath and focused on his own program, carefully tuning out the noise of the other people and practicing the moves of his short program, first without the jumps, then adding them. He felt someone watching and glanced out of the corner of his eye at the person leaning on the rink wall with his head turned in Yuuri's direction.

_Is that…Yuri Plisetsky?_

_The Russian punk. That's what they call him. Why is he scowling like that? Did I do something wrong already? I don't think we've ever met, so how could I have done something wrong?_

Yuuri moved into a jump and almost fell, but managed to catch himself, putting one hand down onto the ice. At the edge of the rink, Yuri Plisetsky's scowl deepened. Yuuri focused harder on his program to escape the Russian junior's piercing gaze.

"Yuuri, your step sequence," Celestino directed him.

"Okay," Yuuri called back to him.

He positioned himself and moved gracefully through the steps, not noticing the way Yuri Plisetsky's eyes widened and his scowl morphed into a look of grudging appreciation.

_Yuuri Katsuki_, Yuri thought to himself, _he screws up his jumps, but his step sequence is impressive._

"Yuri, what are you doing, standing there daydreaming?" Yakov snapped, "You practice as soon as the senior men are done. Get your skates on, now!"

"Fine. I'm getting them. Don't shout so much, old man. You're going to give yourself a heart attack."

He ignored the old coach's response as he stomped away.

Out on the ice, Victor ran through his short program several times, then he skated to the exit, where Yakov was waiting for him.

"You need to get more height on your quad lutz," the elder man said sternly.

"What are you talking about?" Victor objected, "I landed it perfectly."

"The _only_ reason you wouldn't have lost points on that jump is that the difficult position of your landing hid the little mistake you made."

"I made no mistake…"

"You need to build up your stamina. Your arms were practically flopping during that last step sequence."

"They were not flopping!"

"I need to see a smoother transition into the combination and back out again."

"Seriously…"

"Other than that, it was all right."

"Just all right? I'm going to kill them, and you know it."

Yakov shot him a fierce look.

"This isn't about beating the competition. You and I both know that not one of these skaters can match your talent, but it's not all about winning. You need to put in your best performance every time!"

He sighed heavily and Victor's smile faded.

"You've heard them, Vitya," Yakov continued, "They watch you easily win, and they see that there is no one at your level. They know that two things can happen at that point. One is that you will get lazy and unmotivated until you aren't so far ahead of them anymore and your fans begin to look at other skaters to entertain them better. The other is that you will lose that edge that makes you an exciting skater. You have been on top of the skating world for ten years. That is a long time for any skater, and I've seen it growing in you."

"What, Yakov?" Victor asked, frowning, "What do you see?"

The older man gave him a troubled look.

"They ask if you are going to retire. While you continue to sit at the top and you prove yourself, time and again with beautiful winning programs, they speculate when your reign will come to an end."

"I know they do," Victor acknowledged, "I never take that stuff seriously. You know that,"

"Do I?" Yakov asked pointedly, "Do you know it for certain?"

"I'm not going to quit," Victor asserted firmly.

"Where is your next program, Vitya?" Yakov asked.

Victor gave him a look of confusion.

"What do you mean? We're only in the early part of this season. There are…"

"A few years ago, you would already have finished it weeks ago. Not that there isn't time, understand. I am only saying that things have changed, Vitya, you have changed. I think you know it, and you struggle with it when you work on that next program."

"I will finish the program, Yakov," Victor snapped, giving him an uncharacteristic scowl.

"You don't just need to finish your programs for next season," Yakov said, laying a a hand on his arm, "You need to find the reason that you are struggling and you need to take care of whatever it is. Until you do, whatever you come up with is only going to make them ask more questions that you and I don't want to hear."

"What are you saying?" Victor asked, giving him a hurt look, "Yakov, are you saying that _you_ think I should retire after this season? Is _that_ what you're telling me?"

"Of course not," Yakov assured him, squeezing his arm encouragingly, "What I am telling you is that if you don't want to lose your motivation and have every season from now on be a struggle for you, then you are going to have to find something to keep you going."

"I never needed something to keep me going," Victor said, giving him a confused look, "I love to skate. I always have. That hasn't changed at all."

"But, it will if you don't find your motivation," Yakov insisted, "I have seen it happen before to some very talented skaters. I don't want that to happen to you."

"Well, don't worry," Victor said, trying to sound unaffected, "it won't."

Victor accepted his blade covers from the old coach's hand and he placed them over his golden blades. He stepped off the ice and headed back to the preparation area, where he sat down to remove the skates. He glanced back into the rink, where Yuuri Katsuki still remained, practicing diligently and looking to Victor to be in good form.

_I hope he does well. He's worked hard to get this far and I feel glad that it's said that I was his motivation. It feels good to know that I've reached someone that way. To know that he has watched me and appreciated my skating for all this time, and that he was motivated by that to follow me here…that is…inspiring._

"Geez, Victor, are you so tired from training that you need to sit there forever afterward?" Chris giggled, teasing the Russian out of his thoughts, "Why don't we get out of here and go get some food? I'm starving!"

"I would," Victor sighed, "but…"

"Oh, no excuses, everyone's going. It'll be fun. Don't worry, we won't get wasted before the short program…although you probably could get wasted and still defeat all of us, don't you think?"

"I would never skate drunk," Victor said firmly.

He gave Chris a sly little smirk.

"I have skated hungover before."

"Not that anyone noticed a thing,"

"You're so nice to me, Chris," Victor snickered.

"Well, you know, us old timers have to stick together now," Chris teased him.

"Oh, I take it back," Victor laughed, "You are definitely _not _nice_._"

"Come on. You need to eat, right?"

Victor sighed again, glancing back to where Yuuri was still practicing.

"Will Yuuri Katsuki be going too?" he asked, before he thought about the connotations of the question.

"Oh, ho, ho!" Chris giggled, "I don't know. Why don't you go and ask him. I'm sure he'd come if his precious god, _Veeeeeeector_ asked him."

"Stop it. That's really not nice," Victor chided him, "Let's go. I'm getting hungry now too."

Yuuri sighed softly as he watched Victor leave with the other skaters.

_I feel stupid. I couldn't even talk to him when he helped me up after I fell. I just got tongue tied and awkward. But I can't think about that. I need to be in top form for tonight. I have to do my best in the short program._

He finished his practice and walked back to his hotel alone. He ordered room service and sat by the window, looking out at the gently falling snow.

_I shouldn't eat so much, but I'm so nervous about tonight. More than anything, I want my skating to make Victor look at me. I want him to see how he motivated me to get here. And after, I'll go and thank him for all of the inspiration._

The afternoon passed quickly, and all too soon, Celestino tapped on his door, calling him to head out for the rink. Yuuri put on his costume, then placed his jacket over the top, and he left the room and joined Celestino for the walk to the arena. He shivered inwardly as cameras turned to focus on him as he entered the arena and Morooka stepped forward to ask him several questions. Yuuri smiled and tried to sound confident, but the more he looked at the other skaters, the more he felt the heaviness of his body, and thinking about having eaten too much set him thinking again about the reason why.

_Vic-chan._

He moved on to the preparation area and was met by an arena official.

"Skaters Katsuki, Bin and Crispino will skate in the first group and skaters Giacometti, LeRoy and Nikiforov will skate in the second group."

Yuuri nodded and walked with the other skaters to the rink entrance.

_I should wish Victor luck, although who am I kidding? Victor doesn't need luck to win. I'm sure he'll skate perfectly like always._

He looked up and found that the moment for saying anything had passed, and the other skaters were already heading out to warm up.

"Good luck out there tonight," Celestino said, placing a hand on Yuuri's shoulder, "You've worked hard for this, and this is your chance to show them the skater I know you are."

"I'll do my best," Yuuri promised.

He was surprised at how he was able to focus after the encouragement. His warm up went well and he was smiling as he finished and the six skaters left the ice.

"Coming up first is skater, Yuuri Katsuki of Japan," Morooka announced, "This is Katsuki's first trip to the Grand Prix finals, but he's looked very good this season. He definitely has a chance now at a medal, as long as he can keep his nerves under control."

"Nerves have been a problem for him," a second announcer agreed, "so it will be interesting to see how he handles the noise and the crowds."

"Well, he looked great in the warm up. Let's see what happens."

Yuuri skated out to center ice, unaware that Victor had moved to the edge of the rink to watch him. As the music began and he started to move, he could feel already the big meal he had eaten catching up with him. But he landed his first jump cleanly and executed a lovely spin that made Victor smile.

"Good," Victor whispered, as though into the Japanese skater's ear, "relax. You can do this."

Yuuri gathered speed and landed a lovely triple axel, then turned in an enchanting step sequence.

"Skater Katsuki is doing very well," Morooka said appreciatively, "This is what we've been seeing all season. He certainly has the skill to win a medal. He has one final jump…a quad toe loop."

Yuuri gathered speed again, but just as he was about to make his jump, he spotted Victor at the side of the rink, his blue-green eyes watching.

_Victor is watching me!_

_Don't…don't look! Don't…!_

Yuuri's heart crashed like broken glass as he realized he was entering the jump with too much speed. He over-rotated, but managed to land without falling.

"Ah, and he was doing so well," Morooka said, shaking his head, "but he didn't fall, so he still might be in the running here."

Yuuri skated to a stop, finishing his program, and he stood, panting, as the audience applauded. He could still feel Victor's eyes watching, and he made himself smile like Victor would and wave and bow appreciatively. He skated to the exit and accepted his blade covers from Celestino.

"Sorry," he apologized, "I ah…"

"It's okay," his coach said reassuringly, "Even with the poor landing, you did all right."

Yuuri moved off to sit down and he watched as the scores came up on the screen.

"Not bad, considering," Celestino said, smiling at him, "I think you've got a shot at a medal, but you are going to have to work hard in your free skate."

"I will," Yuuri promised, "I won't let you down."

_I won't let Victor down either._

_He was watching me._

_Victor Nikiforov was watching me skate._

_Oh my god…_


	6. Dreaming of You Dreaming of Me

**Chapter 6: Dreaming of You Dreaming of Me**

Well past midnight, moonlight poured in through the window of Victor's hotel room, giving his naked, collapsed body an ethereal glow as he groaned and turned his head away from the brightness, trying to let himself fall into a deeper slumber. But with that deeper sleep came dreams, beginning with the heavy drinking and dancing he had indulged in after the conclusion of the short program, then shifting.

_The music was loud and he was already very drunk and dancing amongst a sea of other swaying bodies. Like a heartbeat, the song had a pulse that throbbed in time with his, and he closed his eyes and moved with it, bumping lightly, here and there against the other dancers, his lips smiling. A feeling like electricity flickered all around as the beat carried all of them, connecting them into a thrilling, wavy mass and holding them in its thrall._

_But as good as it felt to him to be surrounded by all of them, to be held forcibly in their midst, he felt a strange, intense longing to be noticed by someone else. He sensed the scanning eyes before he saw them passing over the crowd…yes! Those intense, searching brown eyes that craved the sight of his body, that touched him far more intimately that any lover's hands ever had, and caressed him as he moved. Arousal came on swiftly and he was glad for the loud music, because he couldn't hold back the sounds of his pleasure at being so intimately stroked and teased and possessed by those lovely chocolate orbs._

_He didn't feel the touch of the people dancing with him anymore, only the maddening, erotic brushings of those eyes that seemed to undress him, that savored every inch of his pale, sweat misted flesh, that slid down the length of him, tasting him slowly, making the skin blush and burn. At some point, his legs weakened and he slid to the floor and laid on his back with the sea of dancing bodies moving all around him._

_He felt a little chill in his belly and suddenly felt like crawling away, and he rolled over and made it to his knees before he saw the crowd begin to part. He wasn't sure why he felt both excited and terrified as someone moved toward him in slow, purposeful tapping steps that sounded over the music. He knew those eyes were looking for him again, but he wasn't sure he wanted them to see him._

_To those eyes, he was always naked. From those eyes, there were no secrets he could keep. They knew every inch of him and possessed him with such ferocity, he knew he would lose his mind and everything else if, after finding him, they ever turned away from him again. But still, the loneliness he felt, even amongst so many people was overwhelming, and he couldn't help wanting those more potent eyes to see him, to find him and touch him, to awaken and thrill him. Those eyes loved him above all else…and that was suddenly terrifying to Victor._

_He dragged himself to his feet and turned away, staggering as he tried desperately to find a way out. But the bodies of the other dancers impeded him, slowing him and holding him back until an arm curled around his waist and soft, warm lips touched the side of his throat. A blindfold fell over his eyes and it did calm him slightly. And when the mystery man's voice sounded in his ear, Victor froze._

"_Trust me."_

_As unsettled as he felt, he obeyed instantly. He let the other's hands bring him to the floor and he laid quietly as gentle hands undressed him. Tears flooded his eyes at how good those hands felt, sliding over his skin, teasing his sensitive places. The music still played all around them, and Victor blushed at thinking that this man was ravishing him in front of everyone. It was as though they were clapping in time as the other slowly seduced him. And when the man finally entered him, Victor forgot everything else and danced helplessly for him. He could hold nothing back as that strong, hungry body writhed erotically with his. And at the moment he was about to be overwhelmed, the blindfold was torn from his eyes…_

Victor sat up in bed suddenly, his eyes blinded by moonlight and his body shaking all over in the throes of a powerful release. He panted and grabbed at his chest, then he felt a swell of sickness that sent him bolting out of bed and into the bathroom. He emptied his stomach violently, then leaned against the wall, his ears ringing loudly. It was humiliating, but he suffered the torment of having to crawl to the shower and he turned it on and sat. letting the water rain down on him.

_God, I don't know if that was a good dream or a nightmare._

He pulled his knees up to his chest and laid his head on his arms, closing his eyes. When the water cooled, he dragged himself to his feet and stumbled back to the bed without even drying off. No dreams invaded his sleep after that, but he woke with a horrid hangover that only got worse when morning arrived and his well-conditioned body wouldn't let him sleep late.

"Oh my god, someone please just shoot me," he groaned to the no one in bed with him, "It would be faster."

A tapping on the door brought another discontented groan.

"What now?" he complained softly.

"Oh Victor," Chris called playfully through the door, "let's go for a run, okay?"

Victor's hand rose, making the shape of a gun that he pretend-fired at the offending sound.

"Come on, it's time to get up," Chris sing-songed, "You're not hung over or anything are you? Rise and shine, sleepyhead!"

Victor snarled and sat up, then immediately felt another swell of sickness. But he managed to get to the door and open in before turning back and throwing up in the bathroom. Chris meandered into the bathroom and handed his sick friend a hotel bathrobe that Victor wrapped around himself. He sat on the floor by the toilet and glared up at Chris petulantly.

"Don't-say-a-word-or-I-really-will-kill-you," Victor deadpanned.

"No," Chris drawled, "you love me too much to harm this absolutely stunning and very sinful body. Seriously, we need to get you laid or something. If you are going to bed with someone, you stop drinking sooner and you don't get so sick."

"I'm surprised you remember back that far," Victor said sourly, "And I've been sicker. I just…"

"Say, what's wrong with you, anyway?" Chris said more seriously, "I mean, your skating is beautiful, of course, but you are just not yourself at all lately, Victor."

"Yes, well, you of all people know I am _never_ really myself. If I was, then no one would like me."

"Ah, that's not true," Chris said, slipping a hand under Victor's chin and looking down at his pale, but still too beautiful face.

A moment later, Victor pulled away to lean over the toilet and throw up again.

"You're really very charming," Chris went on, pretending to ignore the fact that his friend was still leaning over the toilet and holding his stomach.

Victor heaved again, loudly.

"You usually hold your liquor better."

"Fuck you."

Chris smiled.

"All better now?"

"Fuck you even more," Victor moaned, sitting down on the floor and breathing carefully.

Chris looked at his watch.

"You done, honey? You said you wanted to stretch and jog this morning. Masumi's still recovering from the hotness last night."

"Shut up, please," Victor complained.

"Nope," the Swedish skater said, reaching down and taking Victor's arm.

He pulled the Russian to his feet and reached down to flush the toilet.

"You said we are jogging this morning. We are jogging."

"I hate you."

"I know, love. But someone has to make sure you stretch and warm up properly, and if you don't come with me, you know it will be Yakov coming to haul you out. And do you really…?"

"NO!" Victor shouted, then he cringed and grabbed his head, "I'm coming."

"I'll go make some coffee," Chris laughed, "Good boy."

Victor watched, scowling, as Chris left the bathroom, then he stumbled out and almost tripped over the suitcase he was looking for. He tossed it onto the bed and opened it, fishing out the first things his hands found, solid grey pants and a soft black t-shirt.

"You might want to dress a little warmer," Chris advised him, "It stopped snowing, but it's dreadfully chilly, not that a Russian would notice, right?"

"Right," Victor snickered, recovering a measure of his sense of humor as the feeling of sickness drained away.

He found a black jacket he had hung in the closet, then he put on his socks and shoes and brushed his teeth and hair. Chris handed him a cup of hot, black coffee and the two stood, looking out the window.

"What do you say?" Chris asked, "Do you want to just run on the streets or do you want to go to the track this morning."

"I think the track," Victor decided, "I want a place that has trash cans in case I have to throw up again."

"You really need to stop drinking so much, honey. You already have no stamina, and I'm sure making yourself sick a few times a week isn't helping. What can I do? I want to help. You want to form a delectable threesome with Masumi and me? You wouldn't have time to get drunk anymore. I promise you."

"No."

"Then, what is it you need?"

"I don't know," Victor sighed, sitting down on the bed, "I don't know what I need at all. I just wish that someone would tell me what it is…and why I can't see it, no matter how hard I look."

"You're just a little depressed," Chris said, patting his face, "I get that way too. Maybe it's a sign of aging."

"Well, that helped a lot," Victor said with an edge of sarcasm, "I feel so much better now."

"Come on," Chris said, smiling kindly as he pulled Victor back to his feet, "Let's get this workout over with. Then, do you want to go on a tour or something today? We should do something after the public practice."

"Sure," Victor sighed wearily, "whatever you want."

Victor felt his energy returning as the two left the hotel and jogged away in the direction of the high school near the ice skating venue. By the time they reached it, the feeling of illness had left him entirely, and the cold air revived him. His stride lengthened and Chris gave a little chuckle and matched his speed.

"That's better, right?"

"Yes, I suppose it is," Victor confessed.

"You all sorted out now?"

"I'm fine," Victor assured him as they reached the entrance to the track and stopped.

He pulled out his phone and two pairs of ear buds that were plugged into a splitter.

"I have a new playlist," he informed the Swedish skater, "Want to hear it while we jog?"

"Sure," Chris agreed, accepting one of the sets of earbuds.

A pair of quiet brown eyes watched from the stands as the two set off in a paced jog that slowly progressed to a steady run.

_Wouldn't that be amazing,_ Yuuri thought to himself, trying to imagine running that way, in perfect stride with Victor.

His eyes glazed over slightly as the image formed in his mind…a cool morning in Hasetsu and the two of them jogging along the beach.

_He could see, out of the corner of his eye as he ran, Victor's hair fluttering a little with the breeze. The Russian's warm, masculine scent brushed across his senses intermittently, a little distracting, but Yuuri would let nothing take away from the beauty of being there at Victor's side, matching his steps and listening to what? Rock music? Russian pop music? Maybe classical? Or perhaps music from his skating programs?_

_What could Victor be listening to?_

Yuuri watched them for a little longer, then he finished his own warm up and jogged out onto the track, trying to stop himself thinking about it. He put on his own music, mostly music that he and Phichit had enjoyed while rooming together in Detroit during their training.

_I miss hanging out with Phichit. I don't know how to talk to new people very well, and I don't know the skaters in this competition well, except for their reputations. I wonder if I really deserve to be here with them. I skated all right in the short program. I'm in fourth place right now. If I want a medal, I have to be perfect in the free skate tomorrow. I'm going to do my best. Victor's going to be there._

His mind played back an image of the handsome Russian, leaning against the ice rink wall, resting his chin on a palm, watching raptly, appreciatively.

_That feeling, knowing that Victor was watching me. It was amazing and it was terrifying. I wanted more than anything to impress him. I've worked so hard to get here. I can't mess up in front of him. I'll die of embarrassment if I…no, stop thinking like that. It'll be all right. I'm going to give it everything I've got._

_I won't fail. _

_I won't mess up in front of him._

As Yuuri ran down the back stretch of the track, he noticed the other two skaters had stopped running, and that Chris's hand was touching Victor's arm as the two talked for a moment, then Chris set off running back towards the hotel.

_I wonder what's up._

Victor stood on the football field, watching as Chris jogged away His eye caught Yuuri's as the Japanese skater drew abreast of him. Victor smiled and reflexively, Yuuri's legs stopped.

"Hey, do you mind pacing me for a few laps?" Victor asked, extending a hand that held the ear buds Chris had been using, "You're Yuuri Katsuki, right?"

"Uh-huh," Yuuri managed, his heart pounding, "S-sure."

He set the ear buds in place and fell in at Victor's side, hardly able to believe such a thing was happening. He made sure his feet moved in perfect step with Victor's as the Russian set the pace, then he held that pace as the two began to circle the track, side-by-side.

_It isn't the beach in Hasetsu, but it is just as amazing as I imagined_, Yuuri mused, _His hair is moving, just like I thought it would. I can smell his scent too. I can see the motion of his body..and Victor's music…classical._

_I might not have expected that, but it almost seems to float there, under our feet as we run. I feel it in my body too, radiating like heat from the sun. It feels so good being here, even though we barely know each other. And the music in our ears keeps us from having to say anything. That's good, because I'm so awkward. This…being beside Victor this way is like heaven. I could stay here forever._

He felt Victor lagging and eased the pace slightly. The two continued for several more laps before Victor touched his arm and they came to a stop, stepping onto the infield grass.

"Th-thanks," Victor panted, "I think that's good for me."

Yuuri nodded wordlessly and handed the earbuds back to Victor, who smiled at him and nodded.

"See you around, Yuuri."

He couldn't make his voice sound until the Russian beauty was out of range for hearing.

"Y-yeah, see you around."

He walked back to the hotel in a daze, his mind replaying their running and his senses reliving the sight of Victor's lean, athletic body running alongside him, the wonderful scent of him and the feel of Victor's warm, sweating hand on his arm. When he reached his hotel room, he laid down on his back on the bed, gazing out the window and remembering.

_No matter what happens for the rest of the time I'm here, this trip was worth it. To get that close to Victor, to feel his warmth and smell his scent, to hear his voice so close and see him watching me skate…it's like a wonderful, beautiful dream._

_I don't want to wake up._

_Ever._


	7. Grand Prix Final of Tears: Free Skate

**Chapter 7: Grand Prix Final of Tears – Free Skate**

As morning approached in Sochi, Yuuri tossed and turned in his hotel room bed, his heart pounding and a thin, anxious sweat breaking out all over his body. It seemed as though his dinner from the night before refused to digest and it burned in a uncomfortable lump in his stomach. He had already tried listening to soothing music and meditation. He had tried grounding himself using his senses. But nothing seemed to relieve the upset that had taken over his body.

When his alarm went off, he dragged himself out of bed and took a hot, soothing shower, but even as the water tried to calm him, little unsettling thoughts worked at his already roiling mind. And even things that should have been good thoughts instead caused more anxiety. He tried recalling running with Victor the day before, but only remembered his awkwardness.

_I have to stop this! I've got the public practice this morning, then the event tonight. I've got to focus and not be like this._

_I'm not going to screw up._

_I'm not!_

_Victor watched me skate in the short program event. I saw him, standing by the rink, watching me and smiling. He didn't look like he thought I shouldn't be there. He looked happy to see me there. More than anything now, I want to see Victor's happy face while he watches me skate. I have to shut out everything else and just think of skating for Victor._

He didn't feel particularly good, but he forced down a large breakfast before putting on his workout clothes and waiting on the bed for his coach's tap on the door to tell him it was time to leave. It was cold outside, but the snow had stopped falling. Yuuri stayed close to Celestino's side as they arrived at the venue and walked inside. Immediately, the two were met by press, asking him how he felt and how he thought things would go.

"I feel good this morning," he lied through his teeth, "I feel ready. I'm going to go out there and do my best today."

_It's not the interviews that scare me. I don't know exactly what it is. I love the costumes and the programs. I love the lights and the music and the applause. Yes, I love to skate, so why does this happen? Why do my nerves act up like this? None of the other skaters look nervous._

He looked around the rink as he practiced alongside the others.

_Michele Crispino and his sister look excited. Cao Bin looks focused. J.J. never looks anything but confident. Chris Giacometti looks like he'll melt the ice when he skates on it. And Victor…well, Victor looks poised and graceful. He's smiling at everyone and laughing and talking. He doesn't look like he would ever be anxious about performing. And it's not that he never makes a mistake. It's just that Victor is Victor. He'll earn a great score and he'll win._

_Me…?_

"Yuuri, why are you daydreaming?" Celestino chided him, good naturedly, "Don't be so distracted by the others. You are ready for this. You are going to do fine."

"R-right," Yuuri agreed.

"Now, let's go through the step sequence."

"But, that's not what I mess up on," Yuuri objected, "Shouldn't I practice the jumps?"

"You need to calm down and focus. The step sequence," he coach insisted.

It did help some to move in the graceful steps that were so familiar and to hear the spectators and other skaters making comments about how good his moves were. His spins, too, earned him attention and praise that bolstered him even more. But even though his jump practice, too, went well, his anxieties returned in full force as soon as practice ended and he was alone again. He overate at lunch and felt sick to his stomach from that and from the stress, so that he was barely able to hold himself together when the time came to leave for the competition.

Yuuri put on his costume and covered the top with his jacket, then he met Celestino in the hotel lobby and the two walked over to the rink. He kept a set of earbuds in his ears and let his coach talk to the press, while he focused his attention on warming up and keeping a cap on his nerves. Still, they nagged at him relentlessly, even with all he tried to control him. And before it was even his turn, he felt shaky and too cold, even with his jacket on. He clenched his jaw, forcing his breaths to slow, and he didn't watch the two skaters before him.

When Celestino called him for the walk out to the rink for his turn, his legs were shaking under him and his heart pounded so that he thought it might burst. He forced a tight smile and made his way to the ice, stepping on and gliding out to the middle. As he waited for the music to start, he caught sight of Victor, dressed in his red and white runner jacket and watching through those friendly, smiling blue-green eyes.

_He's watching me again. I have to do my best. I want Victor to see how, for all of these years, he has inspired me. I've waited so long to skate on the same ice as Victor. I need to nail this performance to show everyone that I belong here with Victor._

The music began and he did move gracefully through the opening, then he executed a lovely spin that got the audience clapping. He turned and positioned himself for his first jump and threw his body into the air. Yuuri was sure that the jump had the proper height and good speed, but as he came down into the landing, somehow his foot wasn't placed correctly, and the next thing he knew, he crashed down, onto the ice.

_Oh god, no!_

_Not here._

_Not like this._

_Not in front of him!_

He was on his feet again immediately and he picked up the rhythm again, turning out a perfect step sequence that got his spirits up again.

_It was one bad jump. I still have the combination jumps and quad at the end. I'll be okay. I might not get a medal, but I'm not out of it yet._

He managed a clean combination jump, but as he moved to execute his triple loop, his body tensed, throwing off his timing, and he crashed down again.

_Damn it!_

He jumped up again and kept moving, but his body felt like lead and he could barely hear the music anymore over the raging hiss of disappointment in his head. He went into another jump and in the middle of it realized that Victor had turned away and was talking to Chris Giacometti.

_What must he think, seeing me making such a mess of my one chance to skate in front of him? I look stupid. I look clumsy. I look like I never should have been chosen to come here and perform with them. I'm an idiot for thinking I could do this._

Yuuri managed to keep going, despite the heaviness in his body and his aching heart, and he even landed his quadruple toe loop relatively well. But the damage was done, and it was all he could do to stay on his feet as the program ended and, even though he knew he didn't deserve it, the audience applauded his effort.

_It was awful._

_I feel humiliated._

_I just want to get out of here._

He left the ice and waited in the kiss and cry, bowing his head and not wanting to look as the scores were announced and shown.

_Last place._

_I'm in last place with the three top seeded skaters still waiting to go. They're not going to choke. I know they'll all outscore me. I came all of the way here and I failed._

_I failed myself._

_And I failed Victor._

He found a bench and sat down, putting his face in his hands as Celestino tried to comfort him. But nothing would bring him out of the funk he'd gone into…until he heard Victor's music begin.

Yuuri left Celestino looking after him, and he walked back to the edge of the rink.

_This is my one and only chance to see Victor close up, performing his program. No matter that everything else went wrong, I'm going to enjoy this one thing._

Out on the ice, Victor danced for everyone, each move perfectly executed, his spins beautiful and his jumps flawless. But although it all looked so lovely to everyone, Victor ached with loneliness inside.

_I don't know what's wrong with me lately. With all of the odd dreams and the way my emotions keep bouncing around. I'm fine sometimes, but sometimes I'm not. I don't know why, but I felt like I was close to finding an answer of some kind. Yes, I felt like I was close to it, then that feeling faded away and I feel like this again._

_I feel empty._

_And how can I be doing something I love to do, in front of thousands of fans who love and support me. We are all here, and I am turning in a perfect performance in front of them._

_And I still feel empty._

_What is wrong with me?_

_Why do I feel so sad right now?_

He made a turn and spotted the Japanese skater, Yuuri Katsuki, standing by the rink and watching him through teary, but mesmerized eyes.

_It's sad that Yuuri's nerves got the best of him and he skated poorly today. Is that what got me down? Seeing him fail after working so hard to get here? I don't like seeing that happen to my competitors. Competition is fun when we're all trying hard and giving our best performances. It's heartbreaking, though, when someone has a bad time like that, and I get affected by their emotions. Strangely, the bad emotions don't hurt my performance. And right now? Knowing that Yuuri is feeling so bad, I only want to take his mind off of that and make him happy._

_He is smiling a little._

_Chris said that I have been Yuuri Katsuki's inspiration. I wonder if, by skating this program for him, I can inspire him to keep trying. _

_There will be other days, Yuuri Katsuki, and other competitions. What you failed at today, you can succeed in tomorrow. Look at me and let go of what happened tonight. Let my performance enchant you so much that you forget the sadness._

_Stay with me._

_Stay close to me._

As he made the last moves, Victor heard rising cheers and saw the audience coming to their feet. It was happy and it was sad to watch. He looked back to where Yuuri had been standing, but the Japanese boy was gone, and Victor's heart sank a little for him. He skated to the kiss and cry and smiled, as was expected. But even seeing his highest scores yet did nothing to raise his spirits.

_I don't know why this is getting to me so much._

Victor was quiet as the podium was prepared, and he skated out to take his place in the center. He barely heard the applause, but he never lost his winning smile, and he didn't fail to show his appreciation for the love that was all around him. He didn't see Yuuri anywhere around, and he wasn't sure why he even looked, or that it mattered.

Victor and the others returned to the preparation area, and he noticed that Yuuri's things were gone from where they had been, and he and Celestino were nowhere to be seen.

"What a fucking loser," Yuri Plisetsky's disgusted voice complained, "He comes all of the way here and does a shitty job in front of everyone."

Victor sighed.

_That's right._

_Yuri looks up to Yuuri Katsuki, even though he doesn't say it. We all have our influences. Yuri is training with me all of the time, so he's grown used to me. I don't inspire him, but Yuuri does. It makes Yuri mad when his inspiration disappoints him._

"You should be more worried about your own performance, Yuri," Yakov scolded the youth, "You are lazy in training. You never listen to what I say. I should have dropped you as a student."

"Knock it off, old man!" Yuri shouted back, "Why are you bitching at me, when I won?"

"You may have won, but you looked sloppy."

"I did not!"

"Don't yell at him, Yakov," Victor intervened.

"You stay out of this, Victor!" Yakov snapped.

Victor shook his head and fell in with Yuri as they headed out of the rink. They passed through a set of doors and Victor gave Yuri a little, encouraging pat on the shoulder.

"Don't listen to Yakov. You did well tonight…although your step sequence could use a little flair."

"I won, didn't I? So, who really cares?" Yuri said in a snarky voice, making Yakov turn and start scolding him again.

Victor stood back, quietly enduring Yakov's tirade and Yuri's sullen retorts.

_It's the same thing with them, all of the time. I wonder why they put up with each other. It seems like they'd both be happier if Yuri just got another coach. God, I just want to go and relax for a little while. Well, at least, the banquet tonight should be fun. It's always great to let down and have fun with the other skaters. I wonder if Yuuri will be…_

Victor felt a little flicker of his senses, telling him that someone was watching him, and he caught a bit of movement out of the corner of one blue-green eye.

"Huh?" he mused softly, turning to look.

_Yuuri Katsuki?_

Victor broke into a wide, friendly smile.

"Want to get a photo?" he asked cheerfully, "Sure thing."

He might have expected the Japanese boy to blush, or even to be a little nervous accepting. It might have made sense for Yuuri to be flustered. But surprise filled Victor's mind and he stared, barely comprehending as Yuuri's eyes widened and filled with what looked like terror at being noticed by him.

_What's wrong with him?_

_Why is he looking at me like that?_

For a breathless moment, the two gazed at each other, frozen and uncomprehending. Then, Yuuri gave Victor a humiliated look and turned his back, walking away and leaving the Russian skater looking after him in dismay…then sadness.

_He had a rough time of it._

_It's been a very long time since something like that happened to me, but I wish I could tell him that it happens to all of us._

_Don't give up, Yuuri._

_I know that if you work hard and you keep trying, we will meet here again._

"Well, are you coming or not?" Yuri snapped, making Victor blink as he came out of the haze he'd gone into.

Yuri watched as the Japanese Yuuri walked away with his head down.

"Loser!" he hissed.

"Yuri, be nice," Victor chided him, "Everyone has bad days. Even you do."

"That wasn't a goddamned bad day," Yuri huffed, "That was an insult to the sport. He should just give up and go back home and find something else to do, because he's a failure at this, and he knows it. There's no excuse for doing so poorly like that."

"You're a fine one to be talking," Yakov grouched, "With your laziness and your attitude, you're going to be screwing up when you…"

Victor tuned out the noise and followed silently back to the hotel. He headed up to his room, still oddly troubled by the scene back at the ice rink.

_I don't know why I'm not happier. I did win, and my score was even higher than usual. I remember I was thinking of Yuuri and how he must be feeling after having such a hard time. I'm not sure why that, of all things, stuck in my mind, but when I skated tonight, I felt like I was skating for him. I saw him watching with that sad, but mesmerized expression…like he was both loving and hating every moment._

_I have to stop thinking about this._

A tapping on his door brought him out of his thoughts and he found himself smiling.

_Chris._

_He'll liven things up._

He opened the door and found Masumi and Chris already dressed in their suits. Chris smirked at him and tilted his head questioningly.

"Why aren't you dressed yet?" he asked, "Aren't you looking forward to tonight?"

"Of course I am," Victor chuckled, "I just got here."

"Oh yes, I'm sure you were held up by interviews and all."

"No, I wasn't…"

"Well, we need to get you into your suit. Come on. This will be fun. We're always the life of the party."

"Okay," Victor laughed, "I'm going. Don't rush me."

"Yes, we can't rush perfection, can we?" Chris gushed, "Masumi, did you see Victor's dancing tonight? Victor, you were inspired! And wasn't that a personal best…?"

"On this free program," Victor agreed.

"Though it didn't break your world record free skate score."

"Well, nobody's perfect, right?"

"You are, darling!" Chris assured him, "Now, go and get dressed quickly. We don't want to miss all of the fun, do we."

"Never that," Victor agreed.

He found his suit in the closet and stepped into the bathroom to change. He let his runner jacket slide off of his shoulders and laid it on the counter, then took off the rose and black costume beneath it, placing the pieces carefully on a hanger and setting the costume aside as he dressed in the grey suit. He ran a comb through his hair and looked a final time to be sure he looked acceptable, then he left the bathroom and carried his costume and jacket out to hang in the closet.

"You look tasty!" Chris said approvingly, "Doesn't he look delicious, Masumi?"

"You look great," Masumi chuckled, good naturedly.

"Well, thank you both," Victor said gratefully.

"Oh, you are so getting laid tonight!" Chris giggled.

"I am not," Victor laughed, "I'm not interested at all in that, and you know it."

"Sure, he's not interested," Chris said agnostically, "You need very badly to get laid…a lot."

"That is the last thing I need," Victor said primly, "But…I have no objection at all to getting very drunk and dancing a lot."

"I'm all for that," Chris agreed, "Let's go!"

The three headed out of the room and met Yuri Plisetsky in the hallway. Victor grinned at his younger teammate.

"You look so cute!" he gushed.

"Shut up," Yuri huffed, "Let's go already."

"Why are you so glum tonight?" Victor asked, "You won. You should be happy."

"Who can be happy with that old geezer nagging me all the way back here."

"Well, if you did what he said…"

"Ha!" Yuri snorted, "That's hypocritical, coming from you. When have you ever listened to that old man?"

"Pretty much never," Victor answered, smirking, "But then, I can ignore him because I already have four consecutive world championships under my belt. I can be a little eccentric. You, my friend, still have to earn your stripes."

"Get off my case!" Yuri said irascibly.

"Such a little hothead," Chris snickered.

The three stopped talking as they reached the banquet hall and headed inside, where the large room was already stocked with food and drink, and skaters and their coaches were gathering. Victor moved among the group, half focused on conversation, but slightly distracted. Still, he didn't miss the moment when Celestino arrived, half dragging Yuuri Katsuki into the room.

_Oh my_, Victor thought, _this isn't good. _

_Yuuri…doesn't look well at all._


	8. That Magical Night You Don't Recall

**Chapter 8: That Magical Night You Don't Recall**

"Come Yuuri," Celestino said, keeping an arm around his Japanese student, as though he expected that, at any moment, Yuuri would try to escape.

The estimation reflected quite well the way Yuuri Katsuki was feeling, although he seemed satisfied enough with simply drooping his shoulders and keeping his eyes lowered, so that he didn't have to see if anyone was staring or talking about him.

"Now isn't the time to be down in the dumps. The gala is a time for you to relax and have fun after the competition. Look, there's pizza and punch and champagne. Trust me, no one's thinking about the competition. They're all just here to enjoy themselves. Now, go and try to have fun too."

He nudged Yuuri forward and slipped away before he could turn. Yuuri made a sound of dismay, but, looking around, couldn't find his coach. And it didn't seem that anyone was staring (although he had been too distraught to notice Victor looking at him sympathetically as he arrived). He stood still for a moment, getting his bearings and trying to decide what to do.

_I don't really know anyone. The only person here that I even spoke to more than to say hi was Victor, and we barely spoke. I don't want to look awkward, but I feel too sick to eat._

He sighed, looking at the champagne glasses on the table.

_I may as well have a drink. At least that will help me stop thinking about the competition. I'll just have one or two to take the edge off, then I'll find a quiet place to hang out until it's time to go._

He picked up a champagne glass and emptied it quickly, then took another and started to look around. It wasn't hard to find a corner where he could stand and see the rest of the room. He stole glances at Victor as the Russian skater talked and laughed with his friends, then moved to the dance floor.

_It doesn't matter where he is, or whether or not he's wearing his skates. Victor is just graceful all of the time. He's always smiling and laughing. He's kind to everyone and so charming. He even tried to be nice to me and I insulted him by walking away. No wonder he doesn't want to have anything to do with me now. I was unfriendly to him. I was damned rude._

_Even though I was humiliated, I should have let us be photographed together. After all, this is probably the only chance I'll get to be this close to Victor, because I…_

He couldn't finish the thought, but instead walked back to the champagne table and took another glass, and another as he watched Victor's beautiful body turn and sway among the others on the dance floor.

_I wonder if I should make it up to him by asking him to dance. But, if he's mad at me, he'll just turn me down. Ugh, more humiliation I don't need. No, I'll just stay over here._

But, he slipped out of the corner to take another drink and then another. And as the alcohol began to take over, he did feel his anxiety begin to fade. Instead, his dark eyes narrowed and watched Victor more closely, taking on a hazy, aroused look.

_I wanna dance with'im, but I don't deserve it. So, if I wanna dance with'im, then I gotta earn it, right?_

_How?_

_How can I get Victor to dance with me?_

_Does Victor like boys?_

He thought he recalled seeing Victor photographed with at least a few boyfriends over the years.

_Huh._

_Okay, so I insulted him before. I gotta win'im back, right? _Yuuri reasoned in his inebriated mind, _Well, this's a party, isn't it? An' people are dancing…so…dancing. Hey, I'll do a dance off! Heh, yeah. I'll show Victor I can dance. I'll dance my ass off an' be better than everyone, then Victor will dance with me._

He grabbed another glass of champagne and threw it down so fast it spilled down his front. But it didn't matter as he made his way to the dance floor and grabbed the first person he could find…a young man in a blue suit with blonde hair. Yuuri had a vague memory of meeting him before, but was too drunk to recall it.

"C'mon," he said, dragging the young man along with him to the center of the dance floor.

The person froze for a moment, then scowled at him.

"What the hell are you doing?" Yuri yelled at him.

"Sh-shut up and dance!" Yuuri snapped.

"I'm not dancing with you, you idiot loser!" Yuri shouted, taking a step back as heads turned and the other skaters at the banquet began to watch, "You're ridiculous. You couldn't even skate without falling down today, asshole! You'll just fall down and I'll win anyway."

"Then you got nothin' to worry about, right?" Yuuri goaded him, "So, what're you scared of?"

"Shut up! I'm not scared of a stupid, fat pig like you, who can't even stay on his feet on the ice. I'll kill you!"

"Good!" Yuuri sneered, "Give it a try, little guy!"

"What the…?" Yuri roared, "I'm gonna beat your face in!"

"Nope," Victor said, smirking as he approached and laid a hand on his teammate's shoulder, "There's no fighting here. If you want to beat him, you have to compete with him."

"Hah!" Yuri scoffed, "It'll be no competition at all. You'll see!"

The volume of the music rose and the other skaters gathered around, some taking pictures or video and others laughing and clapping as the two young men began to dance. Victor laughed and clapped, watching in amusement as the usually shy and closed off Yuuri Katsuki suddenly transformed in front of all of them. All of the awkwardness and unhappiness left his body and he moved easily with the music, swiftly enchanting Victor so that he pulled out his cell phone and began to record the performance.

"Wow!" he laughed, "Yuuri's amazing!"

Despite Yuri Plisetsky's best efforts, he couldn't seem to keep up with the fully unleashed Japanese beauty.

"Damn it! I'm not losing to you!" he complained.

"Oh, you already have, darling," Chris snickered, "Why don't you get out of the way and let a real man compete with him?"

"Wait, I'm not done yet!" Yuri argued, but Victor wrapped an arm around his waist and pulled him back from the dance floor.

"We'll need to shed some clothing for this," Chris purred, "and where's that dance pole I saw earlier? Bring that over here."

He moved closer to Yuuri, unbuttoning his shirt and baring himself to the waist.

"So, you want to compete with me now, Yuuri?" he teased.

"Let's go," Yuuri growled, unbuttoning his own shirt as Victor recorded them.

Chris laughed and snorted.

"Pants off too, honey," he urged his Japanese competitor.

"Why not?" Yuuri clapped back, "I've got nothing to be ashamed of. I'm not a little boy, like Plisheshky over there."

"What the fuck? Get out of my way, Victor. I'm going to destroy him!"

"You had your turn," Victor chided him, "Stay out of the way. The grown ups are having fun. One more interruption and I'm calling in the truant officers to report you for being out after curfew."

"What? You're stupid drunk!" Yuri seethed, but he couldn't seem to make it around the tight circle that had formed around Chris, Yuuri and the dance pole.

Squeals, laughter and applause filled the room as Chris wiggled out of his pants, leaving him in just his underwear, then Yuuri followed suit. The two squared off on either side of the dance pole and Yuuri gave Chris a nod.

"Ladies firsht." He drawled, indicating the pole.

"Oh, what a gentleman!" Chris gushed, "I like this boy so much!"

More raucous laughter sounded, but it quickly died out as Chris dealt out a flurry of sexy moves that showed off his impressive muscles and well-toned body. Victor was still laughing, but his blue-green eyes were beginning to look more and more aroused.

"I think you melted my cell phone camera lens," Victor laughed as his friend slid down off the pole and nodded in Yuuri's direction.

"Let's see you do better than that, cutie."

"Huh," Yuuri huffed, moving forward.

What followed was a spectacle so meltingly hot that Victor found himself flushed and feeling overheated as the Japanese skater slipped back to the floor.

"Oh my god, that was insane!" one spectator shouted.

"Chris! Chris! Chris!" shouted a group of skaters, but they were met with cries as deafening of "Katsuki! Katsuki! Katsuki!"

Victor grinned and stepped between the two, looking at each young man appreciatively.

"I think we have a tie," he decided, "So…why don't the two of you dance together on the pole? How about that to break the tie?"

"I'm in," Yuuri said easily.

He turned and smirked snarkily at Chris.

"You sure your boyfriend won't mind?" he asked mockingly.

"Oh, Masumi's got money on this, I'm sure," Chris giggled, "I'm up for it…heh, heh!"

And if their separate performances had thrilled, the one they undertook together brought all of the skaters into a circle around them, with factions chanting each competitor's name as the two wound their bodies together in a dazzling display of sexy positions. By the time they came down off the pole, the room was in chaos. Victor clapped his hands sharply, quieting them.

"All right," he announced, "it's the moment of truth. How many vote for Chris?"

Cheers erupted all around, and Chris grinned widely.

"Thank you! Thank you so much!" he laughed, blowing kisses at the ones cheering for him.

"And," Victor went on, "how many for Yuuri?"

To the competitors' mutual surprise, the roar that rose up was dangerously loud.

"That does it," Victor said, when the uproar died down, "Yuuri wins!"

"Well, at least he fucking won _something_ today," Yuri Plisetsky muttered under his breath, crossing his arms, "He's still a loser."

"So, if he's a loser," Victor snickered, "then what does that made you, who lost dancing against him?"

"Shut up! I didn't lose. I get another shot at him!"

He started to step towards Yuuri, but the Japanese skater had moved. He walked boldly up to Victor and met his idol's surprised eyes aggressively.

"How about you, Victor?" Yuuri asked, slurring his words, "You wanna dance with me? You think you can beat me, right here? Right now?"

"Oh, haven't you had enough fun?" Victor asked playfully, "Besides, it wouldn't be even. You had to dance against two people already and I'm fresh. It wouldn't be a fair competition."

"Hah!" Yuuri snapped, grabbing Victor's hand and earning an even more surprised look from the Russian beauty, "You ain't scared, are you?"

Victor's amused eyes narrowed, matching the aggressive look in Yuuri's.

"Should I be, Yuuri?" Victor taunted him in his sexiest voice, "Are you going to get nasty with me, like you did with Chris and that pole?"

"Why don't you try me and see?" Yuuri prodded him, "Dance with me, Victor."

"You've got it," Victor giggled gamely, taking up a position beside him.

Victor tried to keep his mind on his own body and moves, but he couldn't help loving the sight of Yuuri dancing so boldly, right there beside him. And although both of the young men were drunk, they managed to heat up the room with a release of flashy, intricate steps that left Victor amazed that Yuuri wasn't more out of breath.

_He's danced so much with the others, how is he continuing like this? I'm getting out of breath, myself, and not from just how wonderful he is this way._

_Could he…actually beat me at this?_

_This shy, awkward boy who failed so miserably before? Will he triumph over me here?_

_That would be so…_

Victor wasn't sure quite how it happened. One moment, they were dancing, and the next, Yuuri had moved in close to him and wrapped an arm around him. Reflexively, Victor moved with Yuuri, spinning and finding himself being dipped with a lovely flourish. He couldn't get the smile to leave his face as he rested for a moment with Yuuri holding him and grinning down at him winningly. He felt a twinge of disappointment as he was lifted again and applause burst out all around the room, with people chanting both their names.

"Sounds like another tie," Chris called out over the din.

"No," Victor laughed, "No, I…"

He was stopped and left stunned as Yuuri appeared in front of him suddenly, with his tie wrapped around his head and his shirt carelessly left open.

"Yuuri," he began.

"V-victor," Yuuri managed dazedly, still panting from exertion as he dry-humped the Russian skater in front of everyone, "my family owns a hot spring. Wh-when the season's over, you should come and visit."

"Ah…um…" Victor stammered, blushing brightly.

"Hey! I got an idea," Yuuri prattled on, "If I win this dance off, come to Hasetsu and be my coach! You'll do it, won't you? BE MY COACH, VICTOOOOOORRRRRR!"

Victor felt as though the breath had been knocked out of him and he stared at Yuuri wordlessly. He was still struggling for words when Chris peeled the Japanese youth away from him.

"Come on, I think you've had enough dancing, love. You're going to kill yourself."

"N-no!" Yuuri complained, "I was dancin' with Victor! I wanna dance s'more! V-victor!"

Victor looked around for some sign of Celestino, but couldn't find him. He stole Yuuri away from Chris and waved his friend off.

"It's okay, I'll take care of him."

Victor led him out of the banquet room and towards the elevators.

"It's a good thing I know where your room is from before or we would have a problem on our hands," the Russian laughed, "Are you okay, Yuuri?"

"F-fine," Yuuri managed weakly, "Are you comin' home with me, Victor?"

"Ah, y-yes. Yes, sure. But right now, I have to see you get to your room and put to bed safely, all right?"

"All right," Yuuri muttered, "We're goin' t'bed."

"Yes," Victor agreed, smiling in amusement.

"Sounds good. I never been to bed with a guy before," Yuuri continued, "Or…um…anyone, really. But, you know what you're doing, right?"

"Right," Victor giggled, "I'm taking you and putting you in bed before you fall down. That's what I'm doing."

"But, you'll stay, right?"

"What? Stay?" Victor asked, shaking his head, "Okay, maybe for a little while, to make sure you're all right."

They reached the door to Yuuri's room and Victor bit his lip and searched the younger man's pockets, flushing a little more as he accidently brushed against a hardness that had formed in the Japanese man's nether region.

"Oh, you're all excited, aren't you?" Victor laughed, "Let's get you inside, okay?"

"Okay…but, you're stayin' with me, right?"

"For awhile," Victor promised, "I want to be sure you're all right. You drank an awful lot of champagne. Don't worry, I've done that too. I'll take care of you, Yuuri."

He opened the door and helped Yuuri inside, but as he started to close the door, Yuuri turned suddenly, forcing him up against the wall and pressing up against him, kissing him as though starved for the taste of him.

"Mmmph, Yuuri!" Victor objected, "You don't know what you're…!"

But he found his mouth too occupied with Yuuri's probing tongue and his body being caressed by the younger man's roaming hands. He nudged the door shut and indulged in a few minutes of heedless, passionate kissing. Yuuri's hands slid down his back, sliding into his pants and holding onto his bottom as he ground against the mesmerized Russian.

_He's amazing like this…so…very attractive…_

His mind went suddenly to his dreams and he looked at Yuuri's more aggressive face appreciatively. Lilia's words came back to him, echoing in his mind as Yuuri tugged him towards the bed.

_She said to find someone who is both. Could Yuuri be that person? Could he be the person I've been aching to be with? He really has both sides…Eros and Agape. I love how his kisses burn my lips…how his hands want to be all over me at once. God…he is…just…_

He realized suddenly that they had reached the bed and Yuuri pushed him down roughly, scrambling on top of him and continuing to kiss him enthusiastically.

Victor realized suddenly that his pants were off and Yuuri's hands were working at his underwear. He sucked in a shocked breath and acted quickly.

"N-no, Yuuri," he said firmly, removing the younger man's hands and moving them to his bottom, "I don't want to go all the way. We'll just make out a little. We're both really drunk. If we're going to be together, then I want us to remember it."

"Uh-kay," Yuuri muttered, capturing Victor's mouth again and grinding against him erotically.

A bit of Yuuri's open shirt brushed against one of Victor's exposed nipples, and Victor's back arched in reaction.

"Oh, y'like that?" Yuuri noticed.

He slid a hand out of Victor's underwear and began to tease his idol's erect nubs, making Victor moan provocatively and writhe underneath him.

"Ah!" Victor panted, "Yuuri…"

Yuuri rubbed harder against him, making Victor's mind fog with arousal as the two moved together on the bed. The feeling of it stole Victor's breath away, and very quickly, he found himself on the verge of climax. The two gave in together, groaning happily in release. Yuuri collapsed onto Victor's chest, shuddering and giving a final, ragged sob of contentment. Victor ran gentle fingers through his hair and kissed the crown of his head.

"That was lovely, Yuuri. You really are a wonderful dancer. I like you a lot. Did you say your family owns a…?"

He paused as a deep snore sounded. He blinked in surprise, then he laughed softly and gently turned Yuuri onto his side and propped his body up with pillows to keep him that way.

"You're probably going to be a little sick after this," he pondered, "Maybe, I should stay…"

Victor climbed out of the bed and found his clothes. He went into the bathroom to clean up, then dressed himself properly and returned to the bedroom. He sat down on the bed, watching Yuuri sleep for awhile, but eventually, he found himself nodding off.

"I really need to get some sleep," he said apologetically, "But, I had a wonderful time tonight, Yuuri. Can I call you?"

He looked around and found his phone, then Yuuri's.

"Ah, a code. I don't suppose I can leave it on your phone, then."

He picked up the notepad by the bed and wrote a note instead.

_Dear Yuuri,_

_I had the best time dancing with you tonight. The party was so much fun, wasn't it? I enjoyed so much the kissing and making out after too. If you want, you can call me. Maybe I will come to see you when I go to worlds in a few months. Take care and be ready, because we will be dancing again when I come to Japan._

_Fondly,_

_Victor_

He wrote his cell phone number on the bottom and left the note by the bed, but as he got to his feet, his suit jacket that he was carrying swept over the nightstand, knocking the notepad off and into the trash can.

Victor leaned over the bed and gave Yuuri a final kiss on the cheek.

"You were wonderful tonight, Yuuri. I hope that we see each other again soon."


	9. The New Eros

**Chapter 9: The New Eros**

Yuuri Katsuki woke far too early in the morning when his wake up call jarred him out of sleep. He jolted awake with a yelp, looking around in dismay to figure out what was happening. A moment later, his face calmed as he remembered.

_Oh right. The flight back to Japan is an early one, so I scheduled the call so I wouldn't be late._

He sat up in bed, rubbing his eyes and making a face at the dryness and foul taste in his mouth.

_Last night…the banquet…_

He sucked in a breath, trying to remember, but nothing occurred to him at all.

_I know I went. I didn't want to, but Coach Celestino dragged me there. I walked into the place and he told me there was pizza and champagne. I got some champagne…_

…_and…_

He blinked in confusion at the blank spot after that, then his face colored and he grimaced.

_I got wasted._

_Damn it! I try not to do that, because I get a little crazy like Dad when I drink too much. Oh my god, I really hope I didn't do anything embarrassing! Shit! I hope I didn't embarrass myself in front of Victor!_

_Oh man, I have to get out of here!_

He started towards the bathroom, then quickened his steps as a feeling of intense illness struck him. He barely reached the toilet in time to avoid throwing up on the floor, and his ears rang so loudly that he had to lie down for a few minutes on the cool, tile floor, breathing slowly.

_Oh god, if I did something embarrassing, I'm never going to hear the end of it! Whatever it is will get posted on Instagram or Twitter or something, and everyone will know._

Yuuri sat up and put his face in his hands, bending forward to make the spots in front of his eyes clear.

_I have to get out of here._

_I just want to disappear._

_I want to be invisible!_

_I want to be invisible!_

_Why can't I just disappear?_

Tears of mingled humiliation and frustration flooded his eyes and he lurched to his feet, staggering out to the bedroom, where he grabbed his things and started to flee the room. A step later, his foot connected with the trash can by the bed and he tripped over it and fell to the carpeted floor.

"Ugh…"

_Well, that just about defines this whole trip to Russia_, he mused darkly, _I fall on the ice and I even fall, just trying to fucking walk. I'm such a loser. Why did I ever think I belonged here? Why did I come here?_

_Why?_

Tears ran down his face, but he slowly sat up and righted the offending trash bin and picking up the piece of paper that had fallen out of it. He frowned, squinting at the words, then a little sarcastic chuckle escaped him.

_Right…that's written in Russian. That's why I couldn't read it. It was probably stuck in the trash can from the last person who was in here._

Without further thought, he crumpled up the paper and dropped it back into the bin. Then, he took a steadying breath and picked himself up.

_I'm glad we're going. Maybe in Detroit, I can just focus on school now. I can finally graduate, even though it's a year late. I can…slow down and think about what happens now. Although, I have no idea what that will be._

He left the room, pulling his suitcase behind him, and took the elevator down to the lobby, where Celestino was quietly reading a magazine, waiting for him. He looked up as Yuuri approached and gave his Japanese student a kind smile.

"I was wondering if I should come looking for you," he chuckled, "Are you all right, Yuuri? You look pale."

"Oh, I'm fine," Yuuri lied, forcing a little smile, "I'm just anxious to go back to Detroit. I have a lot to do."

"Hmm, well, let's get going."

Yuuri took a couple of steps, then turned and stopped Celestino, making his coach give him a curious look.

"What is it? Is something wrong?" Celestino asked.

"No," Yuuri said softly, "I…just wanted to say…thank you for supporting me here. I really appreciate all of your advice."

Celestino broke into a wide smile.

"You are welcome, Yuuri," he said, nodding, "and when you qualify for the Grand Prix Final again next year, I will be here to support you then too."

"Y-yeah," Yuuri said, blushing, "Okay."

**XXXXXXXXXX**

The sound of his cell phone ringing brought Victor awake with a start, and he reached over and grabbed the device from the nightstand, while sitting up in the bed and smiling excitedly.

"Yuuri…?"

"VICTOR!" Yakov's voice thundered, making the Russian skater wince and hold the phone far away while the ear-splitting noise continued, "Where the hell are you? We have to go to the airport. The plane will leave soon. Get up and get your things together. We're waiting in the lobby."

"Is it really that late?" Victor asked, frowning as the call ended.

He looked at the clock and laughed sheepishly.

_It's been a long time since I slept so late, but I had so much fun last night. The banquet was great, especially with Yuuri so drunk and dancing like that. Then, the stumbling upstairs and making out. God, that was amazing! I hope Yuuri didn't get sick from all of that champagne he drank. Maybe I'll go check on him, because I don't see a call from him yet on my phone._

_Right, I'll stop by on the way to the lobby._

Victor climbed out of the bed, rubbing his eyes and breathing in deeply. He couldn't stop smiling, even doing ordinary things like brushing his teeth, shaving or combing his hair, because he could still smell Yuuri's sweet scent on his body and he still felt the warmth their kissing had left all over him.

_Who would have thought that such an angel-faced Agape would harbor a wicked Eros like that? It was such a transformation! He was like another person entirely. And it makes his Agape side that much cuter to know that he hides his wicked Eros beneath it. Yuuri surprised me so much._

_I'm regretting a little that I stopped him from going all the way with me._

_When I was with other boys, I was never serious about sex. I liked all of the kissing and touching and bringing pleasure, but I never felt a desperate longing to have one of them inside me. Truthfully, I didn't know if I wanted to try anal sex, because I heard it was painful if you do it wrong, and when I'd go to bed with someone, I was usually drunk, so doing something like that could have ended up with one or both of us getting hurt._

_But, it was more than that, really…if I'm honest with myself._

_When you are in the public eye as a performer, people fall in love with you for all of the wrong things. What people see when I perform is a fantasy that I make. The fantasy is very beautiful and the lights, the costumes, the music…they all make it feel very real. The partners I was with were convinced that I was filled with that magic all of the time. It was hard for them to realize that when the competition is over and I take off my costume, I'm just a person, like everyone else. I don't always act like I do in a performance. Sometimes, I feel sleepy. I feel sulky. I feel angry or lonely or afraid. But always, I have to wear a smile in public, not matter what I feel. And I always try to be kind to my fans, pose for pictures and sign autographs, even if I'm so tired, all I want is to rest. I do it because I love skating. I love that I can share that with everyone. I appreciate the attention, even though sometimes I get tired or I feel overwhelmed._

_The lovers I have had, have all been good people. It's just that I was never able to find someone who wanted to look beyond the fantasy and really love me. Last night, I felt so very different. It was like I was being seen for the very first time…as though the real me has been invisible for all of this time, and Yuuri was the spotlight that finally found me. Everything feels different and so much better now._

_Everything._

He finished dressing and grooming, then gathered his things and left the room. He headed down the hallway and found himself smiling as he approached Yuuri's door. His feet slowed, though, and his smile faded as he spotted the cleaning cart just outside, and that the door to Yuuri's room was standing open.

_He left already?_

_And…he didn't call me?_

A twinge of mingled worry and confusion touched his insides and he paused in the hallway, trying to think of what to do next. He barely noticed the cleaning woman coming out of the room. She emptied the trash bin from the room into a larger one that was on the cart, then stopped and looked at him.

"Do you need something, sir?" the cleaning woman asked in a friendly tone.

Victor smiled disarmingly.

"Ah…no, just lost in thought."

"Oh. Have a good day, sir."

"Hmm."

Victor watched the cleaning woman go back into the room, and he moved forward. He started to walk past the cart, but a crumpled slip of paper in the trash bin caught his eye. He reached in to retrieve it, a feeling of deeper confusion and oncoming sadness overtaking him as he opened it and smoothed it with his fingers.

_He threw it away?_

_Why?_

_Was he upset that we were kissing? Did I misjudge his intentions somehow? It's hard to misjudge him humping my leg and asking me to be his coach, or pushing me up against the wall and kissing and touching me like that. He was so into me that, if I had let him, he would have taken me._

_Was he mad because I stopped him?_

_He didn't seem angry._

_I thought that he was as into making out with me as I was with him. He never pushed me away or complained. His body language rang clear as a bell. He wanted me. Did I do something wrong? Did I say something wrong?_

_What happened?_

_Why did he throw it away?_

"There you are!" snapped Yakov's scolding voice, "What are you just standing there for? Come on. Do you think we can wait for you forever?"

Wordlessly, Victor shoved the piece of paper into his pocket and joined his still scolding coach for a dazed, barely aware walk down to the hotel lobby. He waited silently as Yakov checked them out, then he followed like a silent shadow as Yakov led Yuri and him to a waiting taxi.

"What's wrong with you?" Yuri asked in his usual grouchy morning tone, "You look like you're about to throw up, Victor. Are you hungover or something?"

Victor looked out the window at the snowflakes that were beginning to fall, his fingers lightly caressing the piece of paper in his pocket.

"It's nothing. I'm fine," he answered in a dispirited tone, earning a curious glance from Yakov as the older man joined them, "I just…didn't sleep well."

"Who could after that travesty last night?" Yuri complained, "That fat piggy, Yuuri Katsuki, made a spectacle of himself, and he insulted me in front of everyone! Why the hell did I even do that stupid dance off? It was ridiculous. He only won because everyone felt sorry for him."

"I thought he danced well," Victor said in a soft, almost vulnerable tone, "He enchanted everyone there."

"Only because they were surprised he didn't fall on his ass, like he did in the competition!" Yuri seethed, "He's such a goddamned loser!"

"Oh, don't act so jealous," Victor chided him.

"Jealous? Do I sound jealous?"

"Yes, you do," Victor interjected.

"I'm not fucking _jealous_! Who'd be jealous of _him_ anyway? He's a loser. He's a piggy. He's a…!"

Victor sighed and looked out the window as Yuri's insults continued and the cold of the snow seemed to creep into his chest and stomach. He remained quiet as they arrived at the airport, except for looking around hopefully a few times. But, if he was hoping to catch sight of Yuuri there, he was disappointed completely. There was no sign of the Japanese beauty, even though the airport teemed with skaters and their coaches and families returning home from the competition.

"Hey Victor!" Chris's voice called out, finally bringing back a little smile to the Russian skater's lips, "I was hoping I'd see you before heading home."

He gave his longtime friend a little wink.

"So…how did it go?" he asked in a playful tone, "Did you score last night with Yuuri Katsuki when you took him upstairs?"

"What? No," Victor said quickly, his heart aching, "of course not. I would never take advantage of someone who had too much to drink. You know that."

"How about after he sobered up?" Chris pressed, "Did you at least get to kiss him?"

"Eh…yes, I kissed him. We kissed."

"A lot?"

"Ah, I don't know," Victor said, blushing, "Yes, I suppose it was a lot."

"And did he go down on you?" Chris asked with a lascivious grin.

"Chris, don't be rude," Victor chuckled, "Yuuri wasn't in a state for anything like that. I just took him to his room and we kissed and touched some."

"Did you cum?" Chris giggled, "Did he?"

"Wh-what…y-yes, I suppose. Look, Yuuri was too drunk to be making choices last night. I kissed and touched with him a little and we might have climaxed, but with our clothes on…or sort of on, anyway."

"It sounds deliciously naughty."

"Stop," Victor sighed, shoving him away playfully, "It was nothing. I was just making sure he was all right. I did go along with him a little, but it didn't go far."

He took the slip of crumpled paper out of his pocket and showed it to his friend.

"And this is how interested he was when he woke up and was sober," he said sadly.

"Huh?" Chris mused, looking at the paper and frowning, "What is that?"

"What do you mean, what is it?" Victor huffed softly, "It's a little love note with my phone number on it. I left it by the bed and he crumpled it up and threw it in the trash. I suppose that sums up what he thought about last night."

Chris's frown deepened and he looked more closely at the note, then back at Victor.

"What?" Victor asked, looking perplexed, "You can see, right? He rejected me. After all of that sexy dancing with everyone…with me…and our kissing and making out, he crumpled this up and threw it in the trash. Don't you get it? Yuuri doesn't like me that way. He was obviously turned off, maybe insulted."

Chris gave Victor an impatient look and grabbed his hand, raising the paper so that it nearly touched the Russina skater's nose.

"I think you're the one who doesn't get it," he scoffed, "Look, you idiot! _You wrote it in Russian_! Does that boy even know the language?"

"Wh-what? I…?" Victor stammered, blinking and staring.

_He's right!_

_I was drunk and not thinking and I wrote the note in Russian._

_So…did Yuuri not understand it and think it was a mistake? Or did he understand perfectly and this was a rejection?_

_What does Yuuri Katsuki think of me now?_


	10. The Agony of Ecstasy

**Chapter 10: The Agony of Ecstasy**

Victor groaned and covered his head with his pillow, cringing as his alarm went off. He snaked a hand out to hit the off button and peeked out from under the pillow at Maccachin.

"I don't want to get up," he whimpered, "I'm not getting up."

Macca whined and nosed his way under the pillow to lick Victor's cheek.

"N-nooooooo," Victor groaned, "I don't want to. Just…go and let me sleep, Macca."

Maccachin's head tilted and he whined and dug under the pillow to nudge his whiny master.

"I'm not going to practice," Victor huffed in a sulky tone.

Maccachin barked and Victor scowled.

"All right. I'll take you out to do your business, but other than feeding you and taking you out for that, I'm not moving today."

He grabbed his cell phone and found himself looking in vain for a message from Yuuri Katsuki.

_I don't know why I bother. He obviously wasn't interested in anything but making a show in front of everyone of seducing me. He made out with me and almost had sex with me, then he didn't even try to talk to me after._

Victor's expression darkened with sadness.

_Maybe after losing so badly in the Grand Prix Finals, Yuuri just needed a way to defeat me._

Tears burned in the corners of his eyes, but he blinked them away stubbornly.

_I have to stop thinking about him. Yuuri doesn't want me. It was all just a mistake. He was just…_

Maccachin whined more urgently, making Victor sigh as he dragged himself to his feet and headed outside. As the old poodle sniffed around, then relieved himself, Victor dialed the number of the ice rink.

"Hello?"

"Hello, Anya, it's…"

"Hi Vitya," the girl on the line greeted him, "what's up?"

"Oh, I'm not feeling well today," Victor said with a slight groan in his voice, "Will you pass on to Yakov that…?"

"Oh, he just walked in," Anya said cheerfully, "Here, you can tell him yourself."

"Oh no, that's not…" Victor stammered, wincing as Yakov's growling voice came onto the line.

"What do you want, Vitya? Why are you not just calling my cell? You have the number."

"I know. I just…I don't feel well," Victor groaned dramatically, "I must have hit the wrong button or something and called the desk instead. Sorry, I won't be in today."

"What?" Yakov snapped, "Do you think you can just take it easy or something? Russian nationals are…"

"I know. I know," Victor moaned in an agonized voice, "Just leave me alone today. I'll be there tomorrow. I promise. I swear."

He didn't wait for an answer, but ended the call before the old man could continue yelling at him.

"Okay," he sighed, watching as Maccachin scraped his feet on the backyard grass and walked back inside while Victor cleaned up the mess the old dog left behind, then followed him in, "I'm going back to bed now."

He crawled in, under the covers, wearing a sulky expression and failing to fall asleep as hard as he tried for the next hour. With a bored sigh, he turned on the TV and found he did drift off. But he didn't sleep for long before he heard the house alarm chime as his front door opened and closed.

_What? Did Yakov come already? Usually, he comes later._

"Vitya," Lilia's voice called from the front entry, "Sweet boy, are you home?"

"I'm in the bedroom," Victor called out in a discomfited voice, "Did Yakov make you come?"

He heard Lilia laugh and then the elder woman appeared in his bedroom doorway.

"Do you have your pants on?" she teased.

"Mmhmm," Victor sighed, moving over and making room for her to sit on the edge of the bed, "I had to take Macca out earlier. The neighbors don't appreciate it if I walk around naked outside."

"Then, they are idiots," Lilia said, touching his face and hair soothingly, "Your body is a work of art. They are lucky to look at you with or without clothes."

"You're just trying to make me feel better."

"You should feel better. I came all of the way here, dropping everything to see you. And I find you like this? Curled up and hiding from everyone? And why? Yakov said he was told it was over a boy. What did that ungrateful wretch do? I'll have him killed for hurting you."

Victor bit his lips to try to stop the smile that tugged at them.

"You don't have to go to such lengths. Besides, I would only be more sad if you did."

Lilia gave him a skeptical look and took his hand in hers.

"Vitya, what does this boy have that he cuts your heart like this?" she asked, frowning, "I, of all people, know that you are wise enough not to give your heart too easily to someone, but here you are all deflated and almost crying in my arms. What kind of monster is this boy who did this to you?"

Victor drew a snuffling breath, melting into tears as he answered.

"_Perfect_ Eros and a _perfect_ Agape."

Victor sat up and leaned against her shoulder, looking out at the falling snow.

"He is innocent as that new snow by day, then you just add a party, his depression and a lot of alcohol and…his Eros emerged."

"It sounds a little like a nightmare," Lilia said critically, "I hope he minded his manners with you and didn't just maul you. I would have to have him ritually sacrificed."

"He didn't maul me," Victor said more softly, staring intently out at the snow, "He just…seduced me completely with his smile and his laughter and the way he danced and the music seemed to come right out from his body. When he touched me, I could feel the vibration, the life in him. He wanted me to where it was an obsession, and with his inhibitions taken away, he just…"

"What?" Lilia demanded, scowling, "He just took what he wanted from you? He used you and dumped you? I'll…I swear I will…!"

"He asked me to come home with him to meet his family in Japan," Victor confessed, "He wanted me to go there and to be his coach. He would never have dared to say something like that to me if not for being very, very wasted. But, he did. He asked me that, and I was…shocked. I couldn't think…couldn't take a breath."

Lilia's aged eyes widened.

"Then, good god, boy! Why are you here and not _with_ him? He makes you feel like that and you let him get away? Have you learned nothing from your father and me?"

Victor couldn't help the little giggle that escaped him.

"Well, you aren't really my parents."

"I know," Lilia sighed, patting his face, "Although I could bear a beauty like you, Yakov…er…no."

"That's not nice."

"I'm not nice," Lilia chided him, "but I am wiser than you, precious boy. I know how to keep love in a safe place. You need to go to this boy and answer him. That is what you need to do."

Victor let out a ragged breath and shook his head.

"After everything, I don't know if he wants me," he admitted.

"You _don't know if he wants you_?" the old dancer repeated incredulously, "You sit here and you tell me that he got drunk and with his barriers down, he seduced you? He what? He had sex with you?"

"No, we only made out and with a little of our clothes on," Victor corrected her.

"He dared to kiss your beautiful mouth," Lilia said in a lowered, husky tone, her eyes taking on a stern, lusty expression, "He put his hands all over you. He made you…?"

She paused, smirking at the sweat that had broken out on Victor's pale face at having the memory recalled so vividly.

"He made you _dizzy for him_," she relented.

"Yes."

Her hand touched his chest, then she pulled it back and looked at it almost accusingly.

"You react like this, even when you worry he might not want you?" she asked, "Vitya, all of this makes no sense. If that is how it was with you, the boy clearly loves you. What under the stars convinced you that he didn't?"

"Ah," Victor managed shakily, pulling free of her and taking the crumpled note from his nightstand where he'd kept it since returning home, "this."

Lilia gave him a mystified look.

"I left this note for him after I made sure he was comfortable for the night and left him. I told him I liked him and wanted to see him again. I gave him my number and I waited for him to call. He never did. I didn't despair then. I went to his room, but he was already gone. There was this cleaning lady who was emptying the trash, and that note was crumpled up and thrown away."

Lilia took the note from Victor's hand and studied it for a moment.

"The sentiment is beautiful," she commented, "Your words would melt anyone."

"They would if he could understand them," Victor sighed raggedly, "He is Japanese. I wrote the note in Russian. And because of this, I don't know if it was ignorance or a rejection. I would go to Japan right now and throw myself at his feet, but…it would be too humiliating if it was that he didn't want me."

Lilia sat, staring at him with a dumbfounded look, then she dropped her face into her hands for a moment before grabbing him and holding him against her almost crushingly.

"Poor thing, you _are_ just like your idiot almost father," she sighed, rubbing his back as he cried silently into her shoulder, "You are a genius on the ice, an angel in the bedroom, but you have no goddamned idea what you are doing when it comes to love, do you?"

"No," Victor confessed, "That's why everyone always leaves me."

"Well," the old dancer said, pulling back slightly to brush the tears from his face, "don't forget that you also got some things from me, your almost mother. And one of those things is that you don't give up easily. So, even though you don't want to be humiliated, you will find a way to reach out to this boy and bring him back to you."

Victor gave her a confused look.

"How do I do that?" he asked.

"Well, you got his attention before with your beautiful dancing on the ice. You have nationals in front of you and the European Championships. Then, in a couple of months, you may see him at worlds. It is in Japan, _da_?"

"It is," Victor affirmed, fresh hope coming into his damp eyes, "Do you think he will go?"

"He went to the Grand Prix Finals. He is a good skater, isn't he?"

"Eh, when he's not nervous. I suppose he could be there for worlds."

"Then, put this out of your mind and just focus for now on your training," Lilia advised him, "If you love this boy and he loves you, and if your skating is what drew him to you, then there is every reason he will come back to you and you will have another chance at this."

Lilia's expression grew stern again and she smacked Victor smartly on top of the head.

"Ow!" he complained, "What was that for? You never hit me!"

"It is like swatting a dog for doing his business in the wrong place."

"You don't do that either," Victor objected, "Dogs don't learn from that."

"Apparently, neither to very stupid humans," Lilia said dryly.

"Hey!"

"Okay, it is like smacking your almost father for doing something stupid like he does every day."

"Ah…" Victor said, rubbing the slightly stinging spot of the assault.

"Listen to me. We will fix this. You forget him for now and focus on training and competition, then you go to Japan for worlds. You look for this boy. And this time, _you tell the fool in English that you love him_!"

"But, what if…?"

"Uh-uh," Lilia said scathingly, "There is no _what if_. If fate gives you a second chance with this boy who leaves you so flustered and such a mess, you will take it. Are we clear?"

"Um…?"

Lilia gave him a look of warning and Victor let out a long sigh.

"All right," he agreed, "If we meet again…if fate gives us a second chance, then I will take it."

"Good boy," Lilia said, petting his hair tenderly and hugging him, "Now, you get your skates on and go to practice, okay?"

"But Yakov will yell at me for being late," Victor complained.

Lilia gave a sarcastic, evil laugh.

"You leave that to me. Get your skates and go."

She watched with affectionate eyes as Victor chose his workout clothes and went into the bathroom to change.

"Foolish boy," she sighed, "What are your almost father and I going to do with you?"

XXXXXXXXXX

Victor left the house with Maccachin on his heels, and he jogged slowly, letting his body warm up while he headed for the ice rink. He arrived a short time later and sat down in the preparation area, looking around until he found Yakov, watching Yuri Plisetsky skating. The old man seemed to feel he was being watched, and he turned his head and scowled very slightly. Victor marveled for a moment at his restraint as he decided what to say.

"Good. You are here. You will do warm ups, then you practice your free skate. Concentrate especially on your transitions and your spins."

Relieved at not being yelled at, Victor's heart lightened, and he stepped onto the ice and began a slow, gentle warm up.

_I remember, growing up, there was nothing that I loved more than skating. There was nothing I needed, but my skates and the ice. I could imagine the arenas, then people cheering, the bright costumes and thrilling music…everything but the feel of my skates and the sound of them sweeping along the ice. That part had to be real._

_My days began and ended with ice, and dancing and music. I lived and breathed it, and my life was all about it. While everyone around me…my friends and my brothers and sisters were focused on school and having fun and dating, I was already married to the ice and I couldn't be separated from it._

_I am sure I missed out on some things, but I really don't regret it was like that. I still love skating…although it is not all that I love in life. _

_Not anymore._

Victor finished his warm ups, then he heard his free skate music start, and he began to skate the program as his thoughts continued.

_For the last twenty years, I dreamed every day of being on top of the world, and when I got to the top of the world, I dreamed of winning more world championships than anyone had. I am on the verge of that right now, and strongly favored to do so. I wonder if that is the reason I have begun to feel so restless. I thought it was that I was insecure about growing older and being nearer and nearer to the end of my career as a figure skater._

_But, I don't think that the answer is so simple._

_For all of this time, I have set goals and as I reached them, I set new ones. For the past year, I have been sure that it was time to set another goal for myself, but I wasn't sure what that goal should be. I am still not sure, but when I was dancing with Yuuri and we had that evening together, I felt like all that I was dreaming of was suddenly closer, and more defined. Yuuri's hands felt like fate touching me and pulling me closer. The setback after was disappointing, but I see now that it wasn't the end. I feel new energy, new determination and a new path that wants to open in front of me. I just have to be patient and keep my eyes open, so that when the opportunity comes, I will be ready._

Victor continued to move gracefully with the music, unaware that he was moving in perfect time with Yuuri's body as the Japanese skater trained alone on a quiet rink in Detroit. The music played in their ears and moved through their dancing bodies, connecting them, even though neither was aware.

And as the music ended, each man stood alone and quiet, shadow-eyed and lonely, but not defeated.

_It's not over_, they thought together, _Someday, we will meet on the ice again._

_It will happen._

_It will._

_I will make it happen!_


	11. Alone Together

**Chapter 11: Alone Together**

**(Thanks so much to everyone reading and reviewing! I appreciate the love and feedback so much. We're almost to the end of the story. I might be able to finish next chapter. I guess we'll see. Love to all, Spunky)**

Yuuri gave a bored sigh as he contemplated the last few questions on the last of his final college exams. He rested his chin on the palm of one hand and looked out the window of the classroom at the overcast sky. He thought that maybe, in the dark clouds, he could see the slender, beautiful form of his favorite male figure skater, dancing to the sound of the wind that swirled the mist around his graceful body.

_I keep looking back and now I'm sad, not just because I failed at both the Grand Prix Finals and now the Japanese Nationals, which means I won't qualify for the Four Continents or worlds. I'm sad because I feel like that was my one shot at meeting Victor and showing him how his wonderful skating changed my life._

_I wanted to make him happy._

_For some reason, to say or do something and to see his face light up, just for me…I really, really wanted that. Instead, he heard the stories about how he's been my inspiration. He watched as I skated and I totally crashed and burned in front of him. Then, I insulted him by turning my back and walking away, when all he was doing was trying to be nice and cheer me up. All I could feel was my own humiliation. I didn't think at all about him. I'm thinking about him now, and I wish I could go back._

_But going back isn't an option._

_I don't even know if skating anymore is an option. I've finished college and I've ended things with Coach Celestino. My permission to stay in the USA will end when I graduate, so…I guess the only thing to do now is to go home and consider my options. I'm glad I had some time here in Detroit before going back. I couldn't look at the news after nationals. I didn't want to hear people talking about me, not even the ones trying to be kind. I just wanted to disappear. It was fine here at school. I don't know too many people anyway, because I really don't talk to anyone much but Phichit. He's been great about everything. I feel sad to go, but I can't think of what to do now. So, I've just been skating for fun and relaxation…for me. I skate Victor's free skate almost perfectly now and someday, I want to show him that, just to say I'm sorry for disappointing him and myself that first time._

Yuuri sighed again and turned his attention back to his exam, working quietly to finish the last of it as the minutes counted down. He handed in his paper and left the building, stopping in the drafty hallway to put on his coat and gloves. He took his time walking back to the dormitory, daydreaming as he went about being in Victor's presence, hearing his idol's voice, catching his pleasant scent in the air as he passed, feeling the warmth of Victor's hand through their gloves as the Russian helped him up after a fall in practice.

_I should have said hello to him at the airport when he greeted Celestino as we arrived. I should have told him right away how glad I was to be there. I know now how friendly Victor really is to everyone. He and I probably would have talked more. I would have been able to tell him about home and how he inspired me to become a figure skater._

_I should have gone out into the hallway when I heard him talking out there…or invited him in when he mistakenly knocked on my hotel room door. I should have asked him if he wanted to go and get some coffee after we ran together at the track. We could have gotten to know each other better. I know I've read everything that the magazines have printed about him, and I've watched every single interview, but I'm sure there are things I would have learned about him that would have been a surprise. Victor likes to surprise people._

_Yeah…_

_There must be a hundred things I would change, but I think that the one I most wish I could change is how I turned my back on him when he offered to take a photo with me. Things may not have turned out the way I wanted, but I did get to meet him. I got to skate on the same ice as he did. I got to hear his voice and see his beautiful smile, close up. I got to feel Victor's hand taking hold of mine and I got to skate both of my programs right in front of him. At least, during the short program, I was so thrilled he was right there, watching me._

_Victor was everything I imagined he would be…and he was more._

_Damn it!_

_I should have shown him my appreciation by being more than he expected too._

Yuuri stopped as he reached the dormitory, and he stood, looking up at the building and seeing Victor's lovely reflection in all of the windows.

_What am I going to do now?_

_What can I do?_

XXXXXXXXXX

Victor worked quietly on the ice, listening to the two different themes in his mind and moving to each in turn. First, he embraced the wildness and lust of Eros, recalling as he skated, the moves that Yuuri Katsuki had used while drunk dancing after crashing at the Grand Prix final. His heart fluttered and he felt a little flush on his cheeks as he remembered the feeling of the Japanese skater's strong arms wrapping around him and how he felt through their clothing how aroused Yuuri was.

He bit his lip to make the image go away, and he tried instead to work on the more innocent and pure Agape program. But even then, he saw Yuuri looking at him through wide, scared looking eyes as the young man had almost every time they had encountered each other.

_Those two sides of him are just so very different_, Victor mused inwardly, _Eros and Agape. God, I have to get him out of my mind. He's not even going to be at worlds. He failed again at the Japanese nationals, so he won't be there. I barely even know him. We hardly said anything to each other, and he looked mortified when I offered to have a photo with him. I wonder if I did something wrong. I was trying to cheer him up, but it seems like I only made things worse. And now, it seems like that one competition could be the only time we ever get to cross paths. I heard that he quit with his coach and he's going back to Japan. I guess he's retiring? Although, there's been no official word._

_I wonder if Yakov would kill me if I left and went to Japan to talk to him about it._

_What am I thinking? Of course he would. There's no time with the European Championships in a few days, and after that, he'll have me working day and night for worlds. Damn it, just no room for that. _

_But…Yuuri might not like me being the one to talk to him. I just made things worse last time. And if he knew that I flew to Japan just to see him, he might think I was crazy or something. Although, I have been wondering why he never tried to contact me after the banquet. I mean, even if he didn't understand the message I left, we did make out. I wonder if maybe I did something wrong there too. I did refuse to go all the way, but he didn't seem to mind then. I'd hate to think he was like the ones who go after me, just to get me into bed. _

_No._

_Yuuri isn't that kind of person. He's shy and anxious, except when you add alcohol. Then, he's sexy and confident. Ah! I love remembering how he danced like that. I was laughing when he danced with Yurio and got him flustered. Then, I was almost jealous when he danced on the pole with Chris. But when he grabbed me and made me dance with him, I was delighted. I was enchanted. I was in heaven._

Victor caught himself giggling out loud and cleared his throat as he continued to skate.

_I get dizzy when I think of him grinding against me the way he did while he was asking me to go to Japan to be his coach. But, if he really wanted that, wouldn't he have tried, at least, to get word to me? Was he waiting for me to make the next move? I don't understand. I don't know what to do now, any more than I know whether to pick Eros or Agape! Now, all of the moves I make for those two programs are about him…about Yuuri. I can't think of anything else. I just want to…_

"Vitya!" Yakov shouted, bringing him out of his reverie, "What are you doing? With that hodgepodge of moves, you look like you can't make up your mind about what you want to practice."

Victor slid to a stop and shook his head.

"That's just it. I can't decide," he admitted.

"Huh," the older man huffed, "Well, at least you're making progress on both, I suppose."

"You look like shit!" Yuri Plisetsky interrupted as he skated by, "I don't know how you keep winning competitions. Idiot!"

"He keeps winning because at least he takes some care in practice!" Yakov snapped, "You would do better if you were more like that."

"Thank you," Victor snickered.

"Be quiet, pick one thing to work on and _practice_!" Yakov scolded him.

Victor sighed and tuned out whatever followed. He turned and skated away from Yakov, trying to get the Japanese Yuuri out of his head, but his mind wouldn't stop replaying the wild drinking and dancing, then stumbling upstairs and getting dragged into Yuuri's bed for a tantalizing exchange of hungry kisses, caresses and so much heavy grinding.

_His mouth tasted so good and was soft, like silk. He was awfully good with his tongue, even though I'm sure I heard that he never had a girlfriend or went to bed with a guy. It's like all of the time he was watching my skating, he was getting to know my body, so when he put his hands and mouth on me, he knew just how to undo me._

_God, I should have let him fuck me._

But the thought left him feeling even more lonely and abandoned.

_Was it really necessary to hold onto my pride like that? I mean, it still feels like shit to have him leave and never contact me again, but now, I missed out on having what would have been wonderful sex with him. I know it would feel bad to do it and have him leave me, but now I feel bad that he left and I feel bad that we didn't do it._

_I want him so much!_

"VITYA, FOR GOD'S SAKE!" Yakov roared.

Yanked out of his thoughts, Victor stopped immediately and looked around the rink. Yakov appeared to be in a sweat like he had a fever, Yuri Plisetsky was making a goggle-eyed face that looked like something had finally left him speechless. Mila wore a beautiful, sexy smirk and the rest of the skaters were hung here and there at the edges of the rink, looking almost rabid with lust.

"Er…sorry?" he offered.

Mila giggled.

"That would be some program," she mused playfully, "I think you would give the judges a heart attack."

"Vitya, get the hell off the ice, go get drunk and…and _get your frustrations out__**,**_ but _never_ dare to come here and do something like that in front of everyone again. We have standards of decency!"

"But, my clothes are on," Victor argued, looking down at himself and frowning.

"You idiot!" Yakov seethed, "That's the only reason we're all still breathing. Get the hell out of here!"

"You don't have to shout," the silver-haired skater said, giving his coach an offended look, "I'm going."

Relieved to be able to go home, he hurriedly removed his skates. He didn't stop at the bar on the way, but jogged home and hurriedly let Maccachin out before flopping down on his bed and diving right back into his thoughts.

_It's good to finally be alone. I just need to remember how it was with us. I need to recall how his mouth was so soft, but it felt like he wanted to devour every inch of me._

He closed his eyes, lying down on his back and remembering exactly how it felt to be weighed down and held in place by Yuuri's sexy Eros. He felt the Japanese skater's plundering hands running all over him, as though not believing he was real, but still wanting and taking, rubbing and grinding, kissing and biting Victor's soft, pale skin.

_There were marks on my skin after, but they've faded away._

_It's a pity._

_I like the little twinge of pain when I touched them after. It reminded me he had been there, stroking and licking, biting down and sucking, leaving something to let everyone know that my flesh was his playground. _

_Yuuri smelled so good…so sweet that it made me think of the cherry blossoms of his homeland. I've been there more than a few times…to Japan. It's beautiful and so different from Russia. Still, I never got to see much more than the airports, the hotels and the ice rinks. I barely have time for anything but practice and competition when I travel. I wish, for once, I could go somewhere to just relax…to just enjoy myself._

Victor let out an agitated breath and looked up at the white ceiling over his bed.

_Of course, I can't because it's competition after competition after competition. I love skating, but…after almost twenty years now, I want to have something more in life. I want to fall in love. I want to really fall in love._

_That's not so much to ask, is it?_

_Or maybe it is._

He felt a throbbing ache in his loins and looked down at the telling bulge in his pants. With a bored sigh, he slid a hand down to feed his sexual hunger as he closed his eyes and relived that short time that just seemed to invade his mind at every turn.

_Maybe I should just go to bed with someone and try to get this out of my system. But the thing is, I think that I would just be disappointed, because it wouldn't be him. Why do I have to keep thinking about him? Is it because he rejected me? Is it that he hurt my pride and I can't take just sitting back and letting him do that and walk away? What is this fucking stubborn obsession that I have with that night, with that party, with that beautiful, beautiful Japanese boy? Is he like the food in that story I once read? Food that you eat just once, but you keep on craving it until it becomes a madness?_

_This is killing me!_

He glared down at his now flaccid member in confusion.

_What?_

_Now, I can't even pleasure myself? I'm so hung up on him that my body will respond to nothing else?_

_What can I do?_

Victor drifted off into a discomfited sleep, still wondering, while thousands of miles away in Detroit, Yuuri Katsuki was just waking from poor sleep. He opened his still sleepy eyes and groaned as he looked at the clock.

_I should still be sleeping, but it's hard to sleep when I can't stop thinking and regretting my mistakes. I can't even sleep well when I do nod off, because I see him in my dreams, and now that I've been in his presence, now that I've smelled his scent up close, heard his sexy, accented voice, felt the touch of his hand, I can't get him out of my head._

_Victor Nikiforov…my dream and my nightmare._

_He was everything I hoped for, but…I failed._

Humiliation gripped his insides and made his eyes flood with tears, and he was glad that Phichit was already up and gone to the ice rink to practice. It meant that he could cry unabashedly and let all of the pent up emotion leak out in large tears that rolled down his cheeks and dampened his pillow.

_I'm so stupid, still crying over it when it's been a couple of months_, he chided himself, _Everyone's probably forgotten. Victor's probably forgotten that we ever met. And if I don't skate anymore, then it's all over._

_I don't want it to be over._

"I don't want it to be over," he whispered in a trembling voice, "I want to skate on the same ice as Victor again."

He rubbed his eyes and sat up in his bed, gazing at the pictures of the handsome Russian skater that decorated his wall in the dorm room. Fresh tears rolled down his face and his fists clenched until they shook.

"I don't want it to be over!" he sobbed, "I have to skate with Victor again!"

He leaned forward, putting his face in his hands and letting the tears continue to fall until he was empty and quiet again.

_It's strange_, he thought, as the heavy emotion drained slowly from his body, _I don't have any idea how it will happen, and all logic tells me that it won't…but…I just feel like there's got to be a way._

_I'm going to skate with you again, Victor, and this time, you won't ever be able to look away!_


	12. The Reflection of Love

**Chapter 12: The Reflection of Love**

_Japan is such a beautiful country_, Victor mused as his flight descended in preparation to land at the Japanese airport, _maybe after worlds, I will go out and explore it a little. I need a vacation, and after this, the season will be over. I can relax…or, well, maybe a little. I am under some pressure because although I have my next free skate planned, I still can't decide which I like best…Eros or Agape, for the short program._

He sighed softly, his mind picturing the lovely Japanese skater who was now the embodiment of both choices.

_Yuuri Katsuki._

_I wonder if he came back to Japan. I heard he was planning to, since he ended things with Celestino, then I heard nothing more of him. I thought that maybe as time passed, I would slowly forget about how he made me feel when we had that time together at the Grand Prix Final banquet, and after, but even though time is passing, I still ache to go back there and to feel again what it was like when he danced with me like he did, when he put his hands on me…when he kissed and touched me like it was all he ever dreamed of and he didn't want to stop any more than I did._

_I've never felt like that before, and I wonder if I ever will again._

Victor felt the plane touch down, and the rumble and bumping of the landing, and he sighed tiredly. When the plane came to a stop and the seatbelt light turned off, he unbuckled and stood, nodding absently as Yakov said something to him about a car waiting for them near the baggage claim. But as they found their luggage and exited the airport, a group of reporters stood waiting. Victor's face instantly lit with a charming smile and he gave them a wink of greeting.

_I'm tired_, he thought as he stood patiently and answered the reporters' questions about the championships, _I'm not just physically tired either. I do love my fans. I would be nothing without them, but I have to push myself to do things like this when all I really want right now is to be in a hot bath, closing my eyes and dreaming about Yuuri Katsuki…although, since that door is closed, I have to do something._

_God, I feel awful!_

_But it's just a couple of days. It's just two more performances, then…what? I go home. What's at home? Of course, there is Maccachin, and I also have to decide Eros or Agape. But…somehow, I want there to be more than that. After twenty years of focusing on nothing but skating, I want something else in my life too. Is that selfish? Is that wanting too much?_

"Victor, do you have any thoughts to share about your plans for next season?"

Victor's fake smile warmed sweetly.

"I think it's best to focus on this season and leave next season a surprise."

_If there is a next season._

His gloomy mood persisted as they took their leave of the reporters and headed for their hotel. Victor looked out the window, barely seeing the lovely scenery.

_I never get to go and be a part of that anyway. _

_No._

_I need to stop thinking that way._

"Vitya."

Victor blinked and turned his head to look at Yakov questioningly.

"What's troubling you?"

"What's…troubling me?" he repeated, frowning, "What do you mean? Did I say something wrong to the reporters or something?"

"No, you didn't say a thing wrong," Yakov assured him, "You were polite and friendly, just as expected…and you were completely faking it."

Victor gave his coach a perplexed look.

"Isn't that what you've always said I _should_ do, whether I want to or not?" he asked.

"Yes, absolutely," the old coach agreed, "But, since when do you listen to a word that I say?"

"What? Yakov, I…!" Victor began to object.

"Stop. You know I'm right," Yakov persisted, "There is something bothering you and I think it's much deeper than whether to choose your Eros program or the Agape one. If there's something you need, then just tell me."

"That's just it," Victor sighed, looking out the window again, "I don't know what I need. Or maybe I do, but…"

"But what?" the old man demanded, looking at him quizzically, "Vitya, stop talking nonsense to me and tell me what you need. I am your coach. If you want a vacation, you can take one after worlds. If you want a partner to sleep with, I can arrange one."

"I don't need to sleep with anyone!"

"Of course you do. You're a young man, not old, like me. You should enjoy the pleasures of being young."

"Yakov, I don't need a lover!"

"Yes, you do!"

"Now you sound like Mom!" Victor complained.

"She's not your goddamned _mother_!"

"I know. I never get to see my own mother! I never see my family! I never leave Saint Petersburg, except for competitions!" Victor shouted, "I dress up in costumes and make people desire me, but no one gives a damn about what I feel or what I want! They want excitement and charm and they want a new surprise from me every season! I've given and given for years, and I'm just fucking _tired_!"

Victor went suddenly silent…shocked at the fact he'd been shouting while in a car with another person, and that, in addition to shouting, he was crying. He colored and lowered his eyes.

"Sorry," he said softly.

"You don't need to be sorry," Yakov sighed, "I thought that's what this was."

Victor sniffed and wiped the tears of frustration from his eyes.

"You know what's bothering me?" he asked wearily, "Then you're a goddamned genius, because I have no idea. So, tell me. What is wrong with me? Why am I tired all of the time? Why does it hurt to do the thing that I've always loved the most? Why am I being stupid and throwing tantrums like a spoiled child? Why can't I choose the theme for my short program? Why do I just want to be invisible right now?"

Yakov gave him a gentler look and Victor fell into his arms, hugging him tightly, while the old man patted him on the back, then touched the ends of his silvery hair lightly.

"You tell me," he said solemnly, "I think you can now."

Victor remained burrowed into the old man's shoulder, turning his head slightly so he could answer.

"I think I'm afraid," he admitted, "I love skating. I don't want it to end, but I know that it has to end sometime. And I've been thinking that, having spent the last twenty years doing just skating, I don't know what's going to happen when it all ends. If skating is all that I have, then what will be left when that's gone, Yakov?"

Yakov pulled free of him and gave him an affectionate look, patting him on the cheek.

"Stupid boy," he chided Victor gently, "skating isn't all that you have."

"What do you mean by that?" Victor asked, shaking his head, "What do I have? Outside of skating, only Maccachin loves me, and it's because I feed him and hug him all of the time, because I'm so lonely."

"Vitya," Yakov scolded him affectionately, "You have family. You have friends. You have a skill that you can share with other people. You are going to be fine. Don't worry so much. Get some sleep when we get to the hotel. Get yourself through worlds, and when we go home, we will take some time to figure this out together."

"I don't want to wait that long," Victor said sullenly.

"Well, that's too bad, because you are a skater. You skate when there is a competition. When that's over, you can take care of everything else. Now," he said as they arrived at the hotel, "Get your shit together. You have to focus on the competition."

Victor gave a ragged sigh and dragged himself out of the car, just in time to be surrounded by a sea of admirers and reporters. Instantly, his smile returned and he laughed and joked with the ones around him. Yakov watched quietly as Victor signed autographs and answered everyone's questions before heading into the hotel.

_I understand, Vitya_, he thought, _you are sad that you are moving closer to the end of your skating career, and it is natural for you to be worried and sad sometimes. I will help you to not get discouraged. When worlds are over, I will start to introduce you to coaching. I think once you get your feet wet in coaching, you will worry less and you'll be able to enjoy the last years of your own skating career._

_Don't worry, Vitya. I will be here for you._

XXXXXXXXXX

Yuuri sat quietly in his seat on the airplane as it carried him over the water, and back from Detroit to Japan.

_After five years of working so hard to qualify for the Grand Prix Final, I had my shot and I failed. Not just at the finals, but then again in the Japanese nationals too. I don't really want to leave skating, but how can I compete if every time the pressure is on, I get overwhelmed like that? Celestino tried everything he could, but nothing worked. He tried all kinds of encouragement. He had me learn relaxation techniques, but I got so nervous, I could never make them work. Before I entertain any notion of returning to skating, I need to know what I can do to stop being overwhelmed when I compete._

_Victor never looks the slightest bit nervous before a competition. He's always smiling and chatting happily with reporters. He stops in front of the stands and talks to his fans sometimes. His body always looks relaxed and flexible. And it's not like he never falls or makes a mistake, It's just that when he does, he knows how to quickly recover. He maintains his calm state, no matter what happens, so one missed jump or a mistake doesn't cause him to make more mistakes._

"Would you like a drink, sir?" a male flight attendant asked, moving the service cart slightly to let him see the options.

_I've been gaining weight. I have to be careful if…oh, what's the use?_

He selected several of the offered items and continued to stare out the window, eating and drinking absently and thinking about what he knew was taking place in Japan as he made his way home.

_Right now, the men's short program competition is probably starting. Victor usually ends up performing in a later group, so he'll be in the preparation area, stretching and warming up, maybe practicing some of his moves. His coach complains that, although he talks to Victor before his performances, it seems like he doesn't hear a word Yakov says, and if he does, he just does what he wants anyway. He does it, and even his rebellious moves look beautiful, so his coach can't complain._

_I wonder what's going through his mind now, while he waits for the other skaters to perform. Is he really always as calm as he looks, or does he sometimes have to hide what he's really feeling? When he's walking past people and they shout his name and call out questions, does he really enjoy the attention, or does even Victor sometimes feel anxious under that charming smile?_

_Why can't I be more like him?_

_If I think about it, I can almost see him…_

…_yeah…_

_Maybe it's his turn to skate right now, and he's stepping onto the ice as the skater before him awaits his score. Victor's calm and collected, even smiling as Yakov makes a last few comments. Victor's short program costume is navy blue with silver decorations. It looks great with his blue-green eyes and silvery hair. _

_He looks perfect…so very perfect._

_Victor looks composed and beautiful as he stands there, ready to skate._

Yuuri drifted off to sleep as the plane flew over the water, carrying him back to Japan, where Victor Nikiforov stood on the ice, just as Yuuri had imagined him, waiting for his cue to begin. And as Victor skated, Yuuri dreamed of watching him up close again, seeing again the beauty and grace of the man who had become everything to him.

XXXXXXXXXX

Victor wasn't sure when he began to feel just a bit less alone. He was certainly alone on the ice, in his ready position and waiting for the music to begin. Of course, there were thousands of fans, cheering him on and supporting him, but for some reason, he realized he hadn't been able to enjoy their attention the way he had before.

_It's because, out of all of the eyes in the world, the ones I want most to be seen by aren't seeing me. Everyone else looks at me, but to Yuuri Katsuki, I am invisible. It's such a frustration. I am left to wonder, did I do something wrong? Did I offend Yuuri? Did he just not like me? Why won't he look at me? Why doesn't he see me?_

His music began, and Victor threw himself into the performance, pretending with all of his might that Yuuri Katsuki was out there somewhere in the audience, his lovely brown eyes locked on the Russian beauty who had been his lifelong inspiration. And if Yuuri was anxious at all about having made mistakes and lost at the Grand Prix Finals, Victor smashed the dark emotions swirling around him and refocused him with a series of brilliant dance steps and a breathtaking combination spin that left the announcers for the event almost speechless.

Victor's body moved without thought, and he held only one thing in his mind as he skated his short program.

_This is where it all began, isn't it, Yuuri Katsuki? It all started with me skating and you watching and becoming mesmerized by me. That was the beginning. And if things have gone wrong, if we've gotten a little lost, this is where we need to go to find ourselves again. I will skate my best. My dancing on the ice lured you to me before, and I hope beyond hope that I can do it again. I'll throw myself in front of you. I'll keep setting records and doing new things, because if I do, maybe you will see that there's still that inspiration, that motivation that made you train for years, copying me and trying to be like me._

_Yuuri, there's something I wish that I could tell you._

_You don't have to be like me at all. You're beautiful the way you are. When I watched you skate your short program, I could see how much you love to skate. I could see the hard work you put in. I know you got nervous and you messed up your free skate. You got discouraged, but even though you failed, you can go back to where you started…where we started, and you can find your inspiration there._

_I am still here._

_I am still skating for you._

_I will still surprise and inspire you._

_Look at me, Yuuri. Look at me and really see me. And when you see me, let it make you want to be out here with me. Let it bring you back to the ice, so you can dance with me. And someday, we'll not just dance in our own programs. Someday, we'll step onto the ice and surprise everyone by skating together._

_I can almost see it…_

Victor realized suddenly that the music had ended and he was standing at center ice before a roaring crowd. He blinked in confusion, still halfway entrenched in his thoughts of that day he'd been dreaming of.

_What happened?_

_I don't even remember making all of the moves. I was so deep in my thoughts, I just skated blindly, making the moves while my emotions ran wild._

"A masterful performance!" the reporter, Morooka shouted excitedly, "I think that was as close to perfection as we'll ever see."

"He certainly brought his best to the competition," said a second announcer, "and I'm sure we'll see that reflected in his score."

"You have to wonder what was going through Victor's mind as he skated," Morooka mused, watching the replay, "His eyes look so intense and his moves just look like he's dancing with a purpose."

"You can definitely see the determination that we've always known this skater to have. I'll tell you, whatever he was thinking, he's going to make it happen."

"Well, he stands to win a record setting fifth consecutive world championship if his free skate is even half as inspiring as what we just witnessed."

Victor bowed and smiled at the still cheering crowd, then he made his way to the kiss and cry and sat down beside an actually smiling Yakov.

"So, you found it?" the old coach asked, looking sideways at him, "You found something to keep you motivated?"

"I did," Victor said quietly.

_Yuuri Katsuki, thank you._

_Today, you inspired me._


	13. The Shadow of My Heart

**Chapter 13: The Shadow of My Heart**

Victor tossed and turned in his sleep, moaning restlessly as his free skate music played relentlessly in his battered mind. In all of his dreams, he skated his free skate program, but not alone. Dressed in blue and looking like a sweet, gentle prince from a fairy tale, Yuuri Katsuki skated with him, moving with the music, making each sweeping turn, smiling lovingly as he reached out with a partially gloved hand that caressed the side of Victor's face, making his eyes soften dreamily and follow the motion of that loving hand as it retreated.

_Stop it!_

_Stop tormenting me!_

_It was just a stupid dream._

_It was just my mind playing tricks._

_It wasn't real._

Victor sat up in the bed in his penthouse suite at the Japanese hotel, sweating and still trembling all over from how deeply the dream had gripped him.

"Maccachin!" he called softly, aching all over to hug the old dog.

Then, he remembered.

_He's back in Russia, staying with Lilia while I compete, here in Japan. Damn it, it's so hard to sleep alone. I always sleep with my arms around him, except when I go to competitions these days. Maccachin is pretty old, and it's harder for him when we travel, so I don't take him everywhere, like I used to._

He tried wrapping his arms around the extra pillows on the bed, but huffed out a frustrated breath because it just couldn't match the feeling of curling around a warm body. And although he knew he only had to step out into the hallway and talk for a few minutes to any number of females or males hanging out around the skater's rooms to find a companion, he was sure that no one would feel right to him.

_It's almost like a curse, knowing exactly who I want to share my bed with, but not being able to be with that person. I feel almost desperate enough to go crawling to that silly boy in Hasetsu, tear my clothes off in front of him and beg him to notice me._

_Why him?_

_Why can't someone, anyone else be good enough?_

_Why Yuuri Katsuki?_

He sat up again, knocking the extra pillows onto the floor, and his fingers dug into the sheets, shaking as he struggled inside to force away his melancholy. He briefly considered the wet bar in his room, but almost immediately abandoned the idea.

_I might get drunk after the competition, but I'm not going to do that when the competition is just hours away._

He picked up the extra pillows from the floor and laid down again, curling tightly around them and loosing a discontented groan into their depths.

_I'm going to get very stinking drunk after this, then I won't have trouble sleeping._

He consoled himself with that as he gazed out the wide, floor to ceiling windows of the penthouse, admiring the stars that were so like the little lights he recalled seeing in Yuuri Katsuki's brown eyes. After what seemed a torturously long time, Victor drifted off and, luckily, was too tired to be troubled if there were any more dreams. When he woke, it didn't matter that he had rested poorly. It was a competition day, and after twenty years of competitions, Victor Nikiforov was conditioned to perform.

He climbed out of bed and showered, then dressed and left for the arena. He found Yakov waiting, and earned a nod of approval at being, not just on time, but early. As soon as his skates touched the ice, he knew already that he was ready for the competition. Still, he focused carefully and practiced the moves that were second nature. Any remaining emotions or troubling thoughts were pushed out of his mind as Victor became the Russian ice prince that everyone waited to see.

"I see you got your head together," Yakov rumbled as Victor placed a hand on the old man's shoulder and lifted on long, slender leg to stretch the warmed muscles, "Just keep it focused."

"Of course," Victor said easily, "I will. Don't worry."

"Hmm," the old man grunted, "you haven't been yourself for awhile, so it makes sense to be worried."

"I'm fine, Yakov," Victor assured him, "Everything will be fine."

Yakov watched as Victor returned to the ice for a final bit of practice. When practice was over, Yakov waited while Victor changed out of his skates, then the two left the ice rink and the old coach and his skaters in the competition headed to a restaurant for their midday meal.

Victor ate lightly, then walked back to the hotel, where several reporters were waiting in the lobby to do a short interview.

"Victor, you are leading by a wide margin," Morooka said appreciatively, "Do you have any concerns about tonight's competition?"

"No," Victor answered, smiling casually, "I have a comfortable lead, and my practice this morning went well. I'm looking forward to competing tonight."

"Well, there will be a lot of people watching you go for this record setting fifth world title. Do you have anything to say to all of your fans out there, watching you?"

"Yes," Victor said emphatically, "I want to tell all of my fans just how grateful I am for their constant love and support. I wouldn't be where I am, if not for all of them, so I will skate my best tonight to show my love for them, and for the sport of figure skating."

"That love comes through, loud and clear, whenever we see you skate."

"Thank you. You're very kind."

"Good luck to you, and to all of the skaters who will be out there tonight."

Victor felt a touch of relief as he left the lobby and rode the elevator alone, up to the top floor. He walked to his room and went inside, then set his things down on the bed and sat quietly on the edge, looking out, over the nearby buildings, and into the distance, where the Japanese city gave way to lovely, green countryside.

_There is a whole world out there that I know nothing about. There are so many things to go and explore, and someday, I would like to get to do that. After tonight, there will be more time. I have to go back to Russia, of course, to pick up Maccachin, but after that, I'll plan a trip. I don't know where, exactly, I'll want to go, but I need to go somewhere. I need to do something. I feel stuck in place, and it's not good to stop moving. I need to be doing something._

_I just wonder what it is that I'm longing for._

He laid down on the bed, resting quietly as the hours passed. He barely moved until he heard Yakov's tapping on his door, and he got up and put on his free skate costume. He had no idea that, as he dressed and headed to the arena, miles away in Hasetsu, the young man who had been constantly invading his thoughts was also thinking about the competition about to take place.

_I wish that I could have done better and qualified for worlds_, Yuuri thought as he soaked in the family's hot spring, _Right now, I would be putting on my costume and standing there, thinking about the fact that Victor was probably doing the same thing in a room not far from mine. I'd be thinking of his hands carefully setting each piece in place, of his blue-green eyes looking into the mirror as he turns to make sure everything looks perfect. Of course it would be, so he'd leave his room and maybe we'd meet in the elevator on the way down to the lobby. And maybe, just maybe, I'd be able to unglue my tongue and wish him luck in the competition._

He had no idea that the reality was that while Victor was, indeed, dressing and checking himself for perfection, he rode the elevator alone to the hotel lobby, very much feeling Yuuri's absence.

Victor was quiet and composed as he walked with Yakov and the others to the waiting cars that carried them to the arena. He gave his fans a brilliant smile and a charming wink as he walked past them, then he walked with his teammates to the preparation area. He was well aware of the cameras that picked up his image as he warmed up slowly.

Back in Hasetsu, Yuuri sighed and climbed out of the hot spring. He dried off and dressed, then hunga towel around his shoulders and walked back to where Minako was watching Victor on TV, as the Russian skater did a final off-ice run through of his program. As he watched Victor, his regrets that had begun to recede in the warm depths of the hot spring, came flooding back. He felt twinges of anxiety and his heart throbbed uncomfortably. And as Victor waited for his turn to perform, Yuuri's anxiety overcame him, and he ran out of the hot spring inn, headed for Ice Castle Hasetsu.

At the arena, Victor waited calmly for his turn to perform. As the skater before him finished and headed for the kiss and cry, Victor stepped onto the ice, only half listening as Yakov said something he completely ignored.

_It was actually so beautiful_, he thought absently, _that dream I kept having. It was only tormenting because he isn't here. I wish he was. I wish that I could have watched him skate, and that I was going out to defend my title in competition with him. For some reason, knowing that I inspired him to become a skater makes it special. And these dreams I keep having of skating this program with him must be a result of that. There is a feeling like magic in those dreams. It hurts to be tortured by them, but…it drives me to want to make it real._

Victor's mind remained in a small, protective bubble as he skated to center ice and took up his position, unaware that on the quiet ice in Hasetsu, Yuuri Katsuki was doing the same. As Yuuri and Victor moved together while the music carried them, Victor found himself carried into a vivid manifestation of the dream he had been repeatedly having.

_It's so clear_, he thought as he skated, _the music was made to be a duet, and this program is made for two people. When I skate, you can feel that there is a person who should be here with me. If I perform it well, the audience will be able to almost see that I have an imaginary partner, moving with me._

_I wish he was here._

_I wish that Yuuri Katsuki was here, dressed in a costume like mine and moving with me to this beautiful music. It would make a lovely ice dance, and I'd be so happy, looking into his handsome, loving eyes and feeling his hand in mine, his arm come around me, and his smile make me feel like I don't know what loneliness is anymore. There are so many spaces that his presence would fill._

_It would be Yuuri's eyes and his sleepy smile that would greet me each morning. His voice would be the first that I would hear each morning. We would talk while we prepared our meals together and I wouldn't have to walk alone or with just Maccachin in the mornings. We would skate together for hours every day and walk home together after. We'd share hot tea or cocoa in the afternoon and maybe make out on the sofa while we'd watch TV together. And every night, we would lie down together, and Yuuri would fill that space in my arms that would hug him tightly. _

_God, our lives would be so full if we could just live them together…if he would just come and stay close to me._

Victor realized very suddenly that the music had ended and that the arena had erupted into raucous celebration.

_Wow, I don't remember anything after beginning_, he mused inwardly, _I must have done well. Thinking of Yuuri like that really inspired me._

He smiled and bowed, waving to his happy fans, then he skated to the kiss and cry, where Yakov stood waiting for him. The old man studied him for a moment, then shook his head.

"That was an amazing performance," he complimented Victor, making the Russian skater blink in surprise at the lack of any criticism at all, "Whatever you did mentally, it was the right thing."

_I was just thinking of Yuuri and me, dancing on the ice together. I guess that, to everyone here, it seemed as right as it did to me. So, I guess it's not the craziest idea. It's not the strangest need that I feel to be with him. The only thing left to do is to figure out how to make it happen for real._

It was a quiet and pensive Victor Nikiforov who left the arena alongside his coach and rode back to the Japanese hotel. Victor remained in a thoughtful haze as he undressed and put on his suit for the celebration. Only half aware, he left the hotel again, to join the other skaters from the competition at the evening's gala event. But the music wasn't nearly as enjoyable, nor was the drinking and dancing as lively as the night of the Grand Prix Final. Victor stood talking with friends and stealing glances at the dance floor, while his mind replayed the night of the Grand Prix Final gala.

_Yuuri got so drunk, but even drunk, he looked so good out there, dancing. This party is so dull without him here to liven things up. And even better than all of the wild dancing was what happened after, when I took him to his hotel room and tucked him in. I can still feel those hot, devouring kisses on my mouth. I remember how sweet he smelled for a man, and how good his lips and tongue tasted after we drank so much champagne!_

"You look like you're a million miles away," Chris commented, breaking into Victor's reverie, "What's the matter? Five world championships and you're starting to get bored of it or something?"

"No, nothing like that," Victor chuckled, "I was just thinking."

"Ah, thinking, hmm?" Chris repeated, narrowing his eyes, "About what? The way your eyes look so far away like that, it must be love."

"I don't know what you mean," Victor said, smirking, "I'm just thinking."

"I know that look," his longtime friend teased him, "You're pining away after someone."

"I am not," Victor lied.

"Come on, now," Chris laughed, "you can't put on over on me. I know you."

He followed the path that Victor's eyes had been taking and his own eyes widened in realization.

"What?" Victor asked, "Do I _look_ like I'm pining after someone? I'm smiling, see?"

"You're smiling," Chris scoffed, "You're always smiling. I'm insulted you don't think that I know what kind of smile you're wearing by now. We've been friends forever. You're _definitely_ pining after someone, but I can take your mind off of that."

"Is that right?" Victor asked, giving him an amused look, "How will you do that?"

Chris pulled out his phone and called up a set of images that had the exact opposite effect. On his phone screen, pictures from the Grand Prix Final gala showed Yuuri's wild dancing, making Victor's heart flutter and skip in his chest.

"Now, that is something to get hot and bothered about," Chris said appreciatively, "He's just luscious!"

"Don't let your boyfriend hear you talking like that," Victor snickered.

"Oh, are you kidding me? He _loves_ these pictures!" Chris gushed, "Such a beauty!"

"Are you sure you're not just talking about yourself?" Victor teased, "There you are dancing on the pole."

"And there we are together," Chris sighed nostalgically, "You know, it's too bad that Yuuri Katsuki is quitting figure skating, isn't it? We could…"

"What?" Victor asked, cutting him off abruptly, "I mean, I know that he was thinking about quitting, but there was an announcement?"

"Oh, I don't think so, but he did quit with Celestino and came back home to Japan."

Chris gave him a little knowing smirk.

"You could go to Hasetsu and ask him," he suggested saucily.

"I'm not going to Hasetsu," Victor sighed, looking at his watch, "I think I'm going to call it a night and go to sleep."

But, even once he got to his room, Victor found that he couldn't sleep. Chris's words about Yuuri rang loudly in his head, keeping him awake through the night. He couldn't sleep on the plane ride home, either, and even Maccachin wasn't much of a distraction from his worried thoughts.

_Yuuri can't quit._

_If he does, that ends any real chance of anything._

He sighed in annoyance as a notification sounded on his phone and he scowled at the device. After several more buzzing fits, he picked up the phone and gave it a bored look. He clicked on a message from Chris, and his eyes widened.

_Victor, I thought you might find this interesting. If you liked Yuuri Katsuki's dancing, just look at this boy's skating when no one's around and the pressure is off!_

Victor watched in silent wonder as Yuuri appeared on the screen and Victor's own free skate music began to play. And unlike the other times he had seen Yuuri skate, the Japanese man made each move in a relaxed and perfect fashion, pulling off jumps he was sure he had never known Yuuri could land.

_This is Yuuri Katsuki?_

_The same boy who came to compete in the Grand Prix Finals for the first time…and failed? This is that same Yuuri Katsuki?_

_It's just not possible!_

_Look at him skate! The way he is performing, he could be on my level. Looking at this, I can't easily say if I would beat him or not._

_Why?_

_Why did he fail before?_

_I know it's nerves, but there must be something that can be done about that. There must be some way around it. A skater like this can't be quitting?_

_No!_

_It's not going to happen._

He flashed back to the Grand Prix Final gala, when the drunk Japanese skater had thrown his arms around Victor's neck and looked up at him through very drunken eyes.

"_Come to Hasetsu and be my coach, Victor! You'll do it, won't you? BE MY COACH, VICTOR_!"

"Was he making fun of me?" Victor whispered, replaying the video, "Did he somehow know all along what I was feeling, and he did this to torture me? And now, he shows this to the world to taunt me? What sort of man is this?"

Victor's eyes narrowed and his lips curled in determination.

"There is no way that you are going to show me this and then run off to Japan and leave me again!" he snapped, coming to his feet, "Yuuri Katsuki, you are about to be _very, very surprised_!"


	14. So Very Naked

**Chapter 14: So Very Naked**

Victor rifled through his workout clothes, packing them into the open suitcase on his bed, while muttering to himself.

"You want me to coach you?" he huffed softly, "You want to bait me and tease me with your sexy dancing, on and off the ice? You leave me suffering for months and months like that, you little vixen…"

He felt Maccachin nuzzle his leg and looked down at the old poodle's quizzical face.

"No," he sighed, sitting down on the bed and looking down into the dog's wide eyes, "I'm not scolding you, Macca. I'm scolding that cute Japanese boy who thinks he can tease me so mercilessly, then run off to Japan and say he's quitting skating. He can't quit skating now!"

Maccachin whimpered and licked Victor's cheek.

"No, we can't let him quit, can we? Uh-uh! We're going to go to Japan. That is what we are going to do. He wants me to coach him? I'll go coach him!" Victor snapped softly, "I'll coach the living hell out of him and he won't talk anymore about quitting!"

He got up from the bed and tossed several more items of clothing into his suitcase.

"He qualifies for the Grand Prix Final, skates with me, gets me thinking about him all of the time, then he dances with me and begs me to be his goddamned coach and turns around and tries to hide from me like that? What kind of game is he playing, anyway!"

He looked around the room at the stacks of boxes he'd packed.

"I know I'm forgetting something," he said, frowning, "Hmm, I have my clothes, passport, some comforts from home."

He glanced down at Maccachin.

"I'm sorry you have to go in the crate."

The dog thumped his tail on the floor and whined softly.

"Oh, don't make me feel bad. I told you, no matter how much I argue with them, they just won't let you sit with me on the plane. It is annoying, but we'll get through, right? This is really important, Macca. I'm going there for a long time, maybe, and I need you there too. Who knows what other torments this Japanese vixen has in store for me? He's quite foxy…hmm, and not just in the sly way, either. He _is_ really cute. Oh, there, you see? He's got me doing it to myself, Maccachin! That twisted little tease has got me teasing myself for him! How cruel is that!" he complained, shaking his head and snapping his suitcase shut, "Well, we aren't going to put up with that. We are going to…"

He paused as his phone rang and he spotted Yakov's name and number of the screen.

"Oh crap," Victor said, taking a breath, "I kind of forgot to call him about this."

Maccachin barked and wagged his tail.

"Okay," Victor said, cringing and holding the phone far away from his ear.

"VICTOR, WHERE ARE YOU? YOU THINK JUST BECAUSE YOU DON'T HAVE ANY REAL COMPETITION YOU CAN JUST NOT SHOW UP FOR PRACTICE? I GAVE YOU TIME OFF TO REST. IT'S TIME TO GET BACK HERE AND DO YOUR GODDAMNED JOB, YOU SLACKER!"

Victor exchanged sheepish glances with the old poodle and waited patiently for the old man to finish his tirade. Yakov yelled at him for several more minutes before pausing to take a dragging breath.

"Sorry, Yakov, I meant to call you, but I got busy packing and getting everything ready to go," he explained calmly.

"Go? What do you mean, go?" Yakov shouted, "Where are you going, Vitya? I just gave you a vacation! You can't be going anywhere."

"I'm going to Japan."

"WHAT? Why would you be doing that? What are you thinking? You can't just up and leave Russia like that!"

"Actually, it's pretty easy, although it was a lot of packing," Victor chuckled, "I'm taking Maccachin with me, because it might be awhile before I come back."

"What are you talking about?" roared his incensed coach, "Have you lost your goddamned mind, Vitya?"

"I have to go now," Victor said cheerfully, "I need to say goodbye to Mother."

"SHE'S NOT YOUR MOTHER!"

"Goodbye, Yakov."

Victor touched the button to end the call.

"Well, that's out of the way."

He smiled as the doorbell rang.

"Good, that'll be the shipping company, coming for everything I'm sending over."

He met the two shipping agents at the door and waited as they gathered all of the boxes and loaded them onto a truck, then he loaded Maccachin into the car and headed for Lilia's house. He found the ex-ballerina to be as surprised as Yakov about him suddenly leaving, but much less inclined to yell at him.

"Are you sure you know what you are doing?" she asked, "I did tell you that you should go and talk to him, but going there to stay for so long? Giving up your invitation to the Grand Prix series this year? That is extreme, Vitya."

"I know it is," Victor agreed, looking into her eyes as she brought a hand to touch the side of his face.

"But, I do see it," she sighed, "This is not going to just go away, is it?"

"Well, it's not like a flu or anything," Victor explained, "This boy is amazing. He is…so talented. And if I don't go…"

He paused and went silent for a moment, his blue-green eyes clouding.

"If I don't go, I know I will regret it. I know Yakov thinks I'm crazy. You probably think I'm crazy. Even I think I'm a little bit crazy. But, Mother, if I just keep going the way I'm going…I really don't know how I can keep feeling motivated, you know? I get that I have to stop skating someday and probably start coaching anyway, but…I don't feel like that's what is happening right now. And…even if it is, this is something I have to do. I need to do something. God knows I haven't been able to find my answers here. Maybe…just maybe those answers are in Japan, with Yuuri Katsuki. I have to go there. I have to know."

Lilia gave him a sad smile and kissed him gently on the cheek.

"Then, if that is what you think is the right thing, go."

"Yakov is going to murder me."

"I won't let him," Lilia chuckled.

"You'll take care of him?" Victor asked, giving her a more gentle look, "He sounded like he would have an aneurysm or something when he called."

"Well, you idiot, you should have given him more notice. You do seem to spring everything on us all of a sudden."

"It sort of happened all of a sudden," Victor said, shrugging, "and really, if I gave myself time to think about it more, I might talk myself out of going and I don't know what I would do then. I can't keep going the way I have. I do know that."

"Yes, I think I know that too. You idiot father would know it if he's stop throwing tantrums all of the time. But, he's only doing that because he loves you, you know."

"I know."

"Vitya," Lilia said, taking his face in her hands, "I love you too and I want what is best for you. This boy from Japan makes you so frantic inside. He makes you do crazy things."

"I know," Victor sighed.

"He makes you act like Yakov, crazy and unpredictable, but…also passionate and irresistible."

Victor's smile turned helpless and he took one of her hands from his face and kissed her fingertips.

"I'm going to tell him you said that," he teased her.

"Don't make me have to send an assassin to Japan to kill you," she joked in response, "Seriously, Vitya, take care of yourself. And…come back to us soon. You don't want that old fool to be sad, _da_?"

"No, I don't want him to be sad," Victor agreed.

He gave the old woman a last hug, then returned to the car and headed for the airport. He parked and sent Maccachin off to be loaded onto the plane, then left the main terminal with his rolling suitcase to walk to his boarding gate. Halfway there, he heard someone huffing and puffing as he ran to join the skater.

"Vitya, can't we talk?" Yakov panted.

"Yakov," Victor answered, looking back at him affectionately, "You are the best coach I ever had. Nothing will ever change that."

"If you walk away now," the old coach warned him, "You can _never _come back!"

"Dasvidaniya," Victor joked half-heartedly, kissing his longtime mentor on the cheek, "I'm sorry, but I can't do as you say this time."

He left Yakov standing in the gently falling snow, staring at the place he had been for several minutes before the older man recovered enough to continue yelling at him.

"You fool! You don't get to say that when you've never done one thing I've told you to do for as long as I've known you!"

Victor reached his boarding gate and made his way onto the plane before sending a final text to Yakov and making a quick post on Instagram.

_If you're ever in Japan, drop by and see me!_

It wasn't until the plane had taxied into position and was rumbling down the runway, starting to lift off that he slowed down enough to really think about what he was doing. But, even when he did, his mind only turned in circles and came to the same conclusion.

_I know this is a little bit crazy…or maybe a lot crazy, but I just couldn't go on fighting the way I was. Something needed to change, or I was going to lose my motivation. Something tells me that if what I want is to continue skating, I need to do something that will make me want to fight for it. When I saw Yuuri skating my program like that…so passionately, like he'd done it a million times until it was perfect…well, I felt…shocked and speechless. I was so surprised. I didn't know that he was that good. And now that I know he could someday rival me…if he's given the right kind of love, he could really challenge me, I want more than anything to go to him and convince him to keep skating. Then…I don't know. I guess we'll figure it out from there._

_At the very least, it will be a thrilling love affair, right?_

_After all, he did already seduce me at the Grand Prix Final banquet. Could he have done this viral video to bring me crawling to him in Japan? He's cruel, isn't he? But, he is a beautiful skater. Watching him makes me heart go crazy and he makes me do insane things. I don't know if he's good for me, but I think it doesn't matter now. I've already made up my mind._

_I hope you're ready, Yuuri Katsuki, because I'm not letting you get away from me!_

Victor sighed and rested his head against the window, letting himself drift off as the plane headed towards Japan, bringing with it a sudden cold front that sent an unexpected late spring snow falling ahead of his arrival. Upon his arrival in Japan, he collected Maccachin and took a taxi to the place he had heard Yuuri's family owned. He stepped out of the cab and paused in front of Yuutopia Katsuki, breathing in the icy air that had followed him over from Russia and contemplating the warm, homey feel of the hot spring inn.

"What an enchanting place," he said with a slight reverence, "Come, Maccachin."

The two headed through the courtyard, with Victor taking in everything about the place, the lovely earthen tones, the simple yet elegant design of the place, the delicious smells wafting out from inside and the friendly sounds leaking out to where he stood.

"You know," he said, rubbing his chin and looking down at his softly panting dog, "I don't even know if they speak English, but I suppose they must if they entertain foreign guests here sometimes. I'm sure we'll figure this out."

He walked to the front door, glancing at the "Open" sign before entering and pausing in the entry. He was immediately met by a late middle-aged man and woman, who gave him bright smiles of greeting.

"Welcome to Yuutopia Katsuki," the man said, bowing in greeting, which made Victor bow too, and speaking in English, "Can I help you?"

"Hello," Victor answered in fluent and very proper English, "I am Victor. I am a…I am a _friend_ of Yuuri. Is he here?"

The brown-haired woman chuckled.

"Oh, he is here, but right now, he's still sleeping."

"Why don't you come in and soak in the hot spring and have something to eat. You look like you've had a long trip, getting here," the man said bracingly.

"You have no idea," Victor sighed, wearily, "A hot bath sounds good."

"I'll show you the way," the man offered, "I'm Toshiya, and this is my wife, Yuuri's mother, Hiroko."

"I'm pleased to meet you, Hiroko-san," Victor said politely, "Toshiya-san."

"Let me show you to the hot spring," Toshiya said, nodding and leading him away, "Hiroko will start preparing some food for when you're done. Do you want anything in particular?"

"Oh…no, just surprise me."

"You know," Toshiya said as he led Victor to the hot spring and handed him a towel, "you kinda look like that Russian skater that Yuuri's always talking about and watching on TV."

"Yuuri talks about me?" Victor asked, giving Toshiya a slightly flustered smile.

"All the time," the older man laughed, "He's idolized you since he was a little boy, "He's going to be so very happy that you've come to see him, I'm sure."

"Well, that's good to hear," Victor said good-naturedly, "I'm looking forward to seeing Yuuri again too. It's been awhile since the Grand Prix Finals where I last saw him."

"Oh yes, that," Toshiya chuckled, "That was too bad, how he had such a hard time, but he does suffer from a lot of anxiety, you know."

"I noticed. Well, I'm not here to make him anxious. I hope we can talk about his skating career. I heard that Yuuri's been thinking of quitting, and I came to make sure that he doesn't."

Toshiya paused, giving Victor a closer look.

"You came all of the way from Russia, just to tell Yuuri not to quit skating?" the older man asked, "That's pretty extreme."

"Well," Victor said, smirking, "maybe I need a little vacation too."

"You came to the right place," Toshiya said, opening the door into the hot spring, "You can take your clothes off in the locker room. You can soak naked, or if you want, there are wraps to wear over there. Take your time. Yuuri likes to sleep late."

"Thank you," Victor said, bowing, "Toshiya-san."

He watched as the man left, then slowly undressed and walked to the edge of the pool.

_Oh, this looks amazing!_

_I've never soaked in a tub so big._

He stepped down into the water up to his hips, breathing in deeply and feeling all of the tension draining from his body as he sank down and sat in the blazing water to soak.

_It's hard to believe that I'm really here, that I just climbed on a plane and flew off to Japan. I'm really at Yuuri's home and I've met his parents, and they've made me feel so welcome. This water feels and smells so good. I can slow down now and think._

_Or…maybe I shouldn't._

_This was a crazy thing to do all of a sudden like that. It was impulsive, but I'm really not sorry. In just the short time that Yuuri and I were together for the Grand Prix Final banquet and our make-out session after, I knew that there was something special about him. He gets anxious, and that anxiety causes him to make mistakes when he skates. I know there is a way to help Yuuri to be calmer. And he asked me to be his coach because he believes that I can do this, right? He wouldn't have asked me if he didn't think it was possible…although, he was very drunk when he asked me._

_I wonder if he ran off like that after because he was embarrassed. I suppose I shouldn't bring the banquet up unless he does. We both know what happened there. No need to rehash it. I just have to talk to Yuuri and convince him not to quit skating. In fact, I won't even mention him quitting. After all, he didn't say to me that he was quitting. He said to me that he wanted me to be his coach. He wouldn't need a coach if he was quitting…so…he is just not quitting at all._

Victor's thoughts were interrupted as running footsteps sounded and the door to the hot spring was thrown open violently.

_Ah, he is here._

Victor gave Yuuri a curious look as the Japanese skater skidded to a stop, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath.

"Victor!" he exclaimed, staring and rubbing the steam from his glasses, "What are _you_ doing _here_?"

Victor's bright eyes narrowed.

_Why does he look so surprised? He asked me to come here, after all. And here I am…no strings, no distractions, just me, alone…only me, only Yuuri and nothing else in the world._

_Naked._

_Perfect._

Victor broke into a wide, cheerful smile, stood and extended a dripping hand.

"Hello, Yuuri," he greeted the stunned Japanese skater, "Starting today, I'll be your new coach. You're going to get to the Grand Prix Finals…and you're going to win."

He sealed the deal with a trademark wink, then blinked in surprise at the horrific scream that escaped Yuuri as his legs shook, then collapsed under him.

"Wh-wh-WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAT?"

_Now, who's got who, you cute little Japanese vixen!_


End file.
